Whatever Tomorrow Brings
by Mrs. Witter
Summary: Tristan's back. Enough said. Complete.
1. Chapter 1: No Choice In The Matter

Disclaimer: I wish! Don't own 'em unfortunately. And don't I have to claim that I do before I disclaim them? Oh well…nope, they all belong to Amy Sherman-Palladino.

Rating: Well it's starts off as PG-13 but I will have to knock it up to R in the later chapters.

Summary: I don't want to give it a way. Just read it. LOL

Pairing: Dean/Rory/Tristan/Paris…all other characters appear too. It will turn into R/T afterwards, I assure you.

Author's ramblings: I am terribly upset that Chad Michael Murray is not in Season 2 but I am hoping against all hope that he will be back Season 3. All you Tristan fans should definitely let the producers know that we need CMM back! Anyway, this is set in Rory's senior year at Chilton. May include some spoilers from Season 2. Other than that, it's what I think should happen. Feedback is good for the author's soul people!

Whatever Tomorrow Brings

Chapter 1: No Choice In The Matter

"Lorelai, it's not like I am asking you to compromise your parenting abilities," Emily Gilmore exclaimed exasperated into the phone. Her tone caused her thirty-three year old daughter to giggle like a schoolgirl on the other end. "I'm just asking to speak with my granddaughter."

It was a nice day in September and the Gilmores had just come back from coffee at Luke's. Rory had immediately insisted on preparing a list of things she needed for her senior year at Chilton and Lorelai had agreed to help. In actuality, Lorelai had only wanted to whine and complain, hoping that Rory would get frustrated and decide to do something fun. Rory had thanked God for Emily's well-timed phone call.

"Okay Mom," Lorelai laughed. She loved ragging on her mother. She could almost see the red-haired woman's eyes flashing with annoyance, her hands on her well-tailored hips. Rory, Lorelai's seventeen-year-old daughter, sat across from her mother at the kitchen table, disapproval mixed with amusement on her face. Lorelai handed her the phone. "It's Superwoman on the phone for you."

"Wonder Woman," Rory corrected her mother. "It was Supergirl."

"I stand corrected." 

Rory put the receiver to her ear and smiled brightly. "Hi Grandma, how are you?"

"I'm fine Rory," Emily said, the annoyance gone from her voice and an underlying softness replacing it. "I called to inform you that you received an invitation today."

"I did?" Rory asked and raised an eyebrow at Lorelai who raised one back. "From who? For what? And why did it come there?"

"It's for a party, apparently," Emily answered sounding very pleased and Rory moaned inwardly knowing what was coming next. "A birthday party for Tristan DuGrey this weekend. Does Tristan go to Chilton?"

Rory winced, memories of the blond haired boy that made her first year at Chilton Prep a living hell. Her mother caught her expression and furrowed her brow quizzically. Rory was surprised that the older Lorelai hadn't jumped in a said something yet. "Well he used to. He disappeared after sophomore year. I think he transferred schools."

"Well apparently, he's back," Emily stated. "His parent's are throwing him his eighteenth birthday party and all the Gilmores are invited. It's Saturday night at the DuGrey mansion in Hartford. You'll talk your mother into it, won't you?"

Rory looked at Lorelai who had decided that listening to one end of a conversation was boring and has started to brew a fresh pot of coffee. Rory sighed into the phone. The last thing she wanted to do was attend a party in Hartford and have that party be thrown in honor of Tristan DuGrey turning eighteen. "Grandma, I don't want to go."

"Why not?" Emily's voice wasn't a whine. Gilmore women never whined. Until Lorelai, of course. Her tone however was demanding. And Rory knew better than to mess with Emily Gilmore when she was dead-set on seeing it through.

"Tristan and I weren't exactly friends that year," Rory explained and she watched as her mother turned around again, suddenly surprised by the new development in the conversation. "I don't want to spend my last weekend before senior year at a stuffy Chilton party."

"Rory," Emily's voice was surprisingly calm. "When I threw you that sixteenth birthday party, your mother informed me that the children invited to that party weren't your friends. But they came anyway. The DuGreys obviously want us there and it would be impolite not to go. I would expect an excuse from your mother, but not from you."

Rory swallowed hard, cornered by logic, and forced a smile on her face. "Of course, Grandma. I'll talk Mom into it and then I'll call back for the details."

Emily sounded pleased as she said good-bye and Rory looked up at her mother, who was grinning mischievously. "So what did Emily want you to go to now? Am I supposed to be accompanying you? And did you say Tristan?"

"A birthday party yes and yes," Rory answered with a sigh. "He's turning eighteen. The party is this Saturday and I hate that she's making me go."

"Welcome to my life, babe," Lorelai said as she handed her daughter a mug of coffee. "I'm sure it won't be that bad. We'll make an appearance and then I'll fake being sick after eating some wonderfully vile appetizer and if we're lucky enough you won't even have to wish the Evil One happy birthday."

"I wish I never knew him," Rory said as she took a sip of her coffee. "Without him there to pester me junior year, the only one I had to fend off was Paris. Do you know how much it will suck to see him again and have him in my classes? I bet he hasn't changed at all."

"You're getting worked up over something that may be nothing," Lorelai soothed as she wandered into the living room and then shouted from there. "I mean from the way you say things ended between you two after that whole PJ Harvey fiasco, he'd have to be a glutton for punishment to want bother you again. He'll probably stay as far as he possibly can from you."

"Yeah," Rory shouted back glumly as she started into her coffee mug. "As far as he possibly can." 

She closed her eyes and wondered why that idea didn't sit to well with her. She didn't want to be tortured by Tristan DuGrey this year. She didn't want to have to see his smug smile, his annoyingly contradicting eyes that could turn the most extreme shades of blue; almost turquoise when he was sad and a deep, sparkling oceanic blue when he was happy, or teasing her or making one of his lewd comments. She didn't want to see him making out with his dozens of girlfriends and stringing a long Paris in the process.

But what she did want was to see him. Just to see him. How he looked, if he had changed, if he remembered who she was, if they could try again at that friendship that they had tried to establish before PJ Harvey and Paris.

And she didn't want to feel that way. She had been surprised when she had first found out that he had transferred schools. And it had been odd not to see him in the hallways, not to bicker with him near her locker and not to have one of their witty repartees. 

After the wonderful summer with Dean she had had after sophomore year, she had been ready to combat with Tristan at Chilton in September. But he hadn't been there and much to her disdain she missed him. But it was something she got over; it wasn't like they were best friends anyway. 

And now he was back. 

At their school. 

In her life. 

And she felt torn because part of her wanted to see him and parted of her wished he would just go away.

She wasn't ready to face Tristan DuGrey again. 

She glanced at the calendar on the wall and her eyes landed on the date of Tristan's birthday party. 

It wasn't like she had a choice.

~*~ ~*~ ~*~ 

Tristan ran a hand through his tousled hair and plastered a smile across his face for the sake of his parents. He took the steps as quickly as he could and stopped mid-way down the stairs at the sight he saw. His mother was at the bottom of the stairwell, ordering people around as they added the finishing touches to the party that was about to begin in a few minutes. 

His eighteenth birthday party.

He was back in Hartford. He was going to go back to Chilton to finish high school. And he felt twelve. Insignificant. Unimportant. Unwanted.

He didn't want to come back to Hartford. Not after the wonderful year he had had in LA. In LA, where he lived alone, answered to no one and went to school without a care in the world. His grandfather, Janlan DuGrey, had set aside some money for him, much to the disdain on his son, William. And Janlan had advised Tristan to move away for a year, away from his parents, away from Hartford and away from Chilton. 

And he had felt so free there. So free that he had enrolled in a public high school. Some place where no one knew his name and no one cared whether he was a DuGrey or the local paperboy. A select few, people he considered his good friends, were the only ones who knew he was rich. And they didn't care. They were genuine and they were real. They cared about him just for who he was and not because he was Tristan DuGrey.

As he swooped down the final step, one of the servants dropped and envelope to the ground. Tristan stopped her from picking it up and bent down to pick it up himself, dismissing her with a wave of his hand. As he read the name on the envelope, his eyes widened. Albeit the name was written wrong, it didn't take a scientist to figure out whom it was addressed to. The Gilmores.

Rory Gilmore. 

Tristan closed his eyes as images of the brown-haired girl that had put him through such turmoil filled his mind. She had been so different from the people he knew. So real. Untainted by money, unaffected by gossip, unreceptive to rudeness and impervious to trivial, silly things that didn't matter in the long run.

She amused him at first. Attracted to her, even though he hadn't realized then. Infatuated by the big blue eyes, enamored by the witty tongue and mesmerized by her radiant smile and unique sense of humor.

But she did more to him than make him develop a crush on her. She infuriated him with her self-righteousness. Granted she had every right to be that way with him because he was a jerk but they had gotten past that. He had apologized and they had started towards a tentative friendship. It wasn't what he wanted with her, but he was ready to take her anyway he could get her.

_Yeah right DuGrey, _a voice scolded him. _You knew you couldn't handle just being her friend. That's why you bought those damn concert tickets. You wanted her; in every way you could have her._ Shaking his head, he let self-disgust settle over him. Here he was, hating himself for screwing everything up with Rory when she probably forgot he existed until the invite to his party was sent to her. She was probably still with her bagboy boyfriend Dean.

Suddenly, the realization that she might be actually coming to his party set in. He wasn't ready to see her. He wasn't even sure he wanted to see her. It didn't matter if she didn't come either. He really didn't want her there. He couldn't care less if she came or not. _Yeah, you keep telling that to yourself DuGrey. You're doing a real bang of job of it. _

This wasn't how he wanted to see her. Not at a stupid party that his parents wanted to throw because they hadn't thrown one in ages. His turning eighteen was just a convenient coincidence and the right time to let people know that Tristan was back in town. To stop the gossip and speculation as to where he was and why he had left. Killing several birds with one stone.

He was out of his element in his own home and he didn't want Rory to see him that way. The doorbell rang, signaling the arrival of the guests and he sighed wearily. 

It wasn't like he had a choice.


	2. Chapter 2: And We Meet Again

Chapter 2: And We Meet Again…

"Tristan DuGrey, I haven't seen you ages man!" Brett Thompson said as he slapped Tristan on the back. The party had been in full swing for the last ten minutes and Tristan had been finding a place to hide when Brett had stopped him. "How've you been, T?"

He smiled widely, letting the public Tristan DuGrey appear. He relaxed his shoulders, cocked his head, put a hand in the pocket of his trousers and waved his other hand around in a dismissive gesture. Sometimes he wondered if he was bi-polar. "I've been great Brett! LA was good to me!"

"So you got laid a lot?" Brett asked with a smirk.

Tristan managed to check the urge to roll his eyes and smiled with confidence. "I'm not one to kiss and tell, my friend. Let me just tell you that there were some fine women in LA. You know, blondes really do have the most fun."

Brett laughed and slapped Tristan on the back again. "Man we missed having you around! Happy Birthday, by the way."

"Thanks," Tristan said as Brett walked away shaking his head, laughter still in his eyes. Again, he had to resist the urge to roll his eyes and this time to flip the bird at the boy's retreating figure. DuGreys never lost their cool in public. _Unless you count the time you challenged Rory's boyfriend to a fight. You totally lost it then. _God, did everything have to come back to her? 

"You don't look to happy for someone turning eighteen," a familiar, feminine, nicer voice sounded in his ears. He turned around to see her leaning against a pillar, clad in a wine-red dress, her curls tumbling past her shoulder. Tristan gave her a once-over and smiled when he caught her coloring a bit. He had to admit, she didn't look like how he had remembered her. She looked sophisticated. More at ease with social surroundings. Pretty, he admitted. 

"Hello Paris," Tristan said smoothly as he walked up to her and leaned against the pillar. He was mildly surprised that she didn't straighten up fully and merely looked up at him. He plastered his first sincere smile of the night. "You look great."

She caught on to the sincerity of his voice and let the walls around her fall. "Thank you. So do you."

He smiled again and was about to say something when he felt a light caress on his back. Tristan and Paris turned around to see Louise dressed in an impossibly low-cut blue gown. She was looking at him through her normal lust-filled gaze and he was amazed at how little had changed since he had been away. "Aren't you a sight for sore eyes?" Louise drawled. 

Madeline showed up behind her wearing a pretty black dress and smiled cheerfully. "Hi Tristan! It's so good to have you back. Happy Birthday!"

"Thank you, Madeline," he said to the chirpy girl.

"So can I give you a birthday kiss?" Louise asked shamelessly.

Before Tristan could reply, Paris narrowed her eyes. Tristan could practically see the defense that had gone up around Paris' heart and would have laughed if she didn't look so lethal. "He has a cold sore. Back off, Lady Marmalade." 

"And the claws come out of the glove," Louise shot back, raising an eyebrow. Paris and Louise regarded each other with animosity that shouldn't have been emanating between friends and Madeline looked on, curious to see who backed down first. 

Now Tristan's smile surfaced and he stepped between the two girls. "Ladies, ladies, there is enough of me to go around. This is a party. My party. And party's are for fun."

"Looks like the fun is going to be knocked up one more notch," Louise said with a grin. Her three companions followed her gaze and Tristan tried to ignore the jolt in his heart as he saw Rory Gilmore enter through the main door. Her grandparents and who he assumed was her mother were right behind her. "Lorelai Leigh Gilmore, how fun."

If it was possible, she looked even more beautiful to him. Her baby blue dress clung to her body modestly and her hair was done up in a delicate knot. He couldn't see her face very well from where he stood but if he knew Rory Gilmore like he thought he did, he was sure it was set in a scowl at the thought of being in the same house with him. Paris stiffened slightly beside him and he was disappointed to realize that there was still a lot of bad blood between the two. And it was still because of him. "I didn't think she'd show."

Louise crossed her arms over her chest. "She probably didn't want to come."

"Her dress looks nice." Madeline said earning glares from the two other girls. She made an apologetic face and then scrunched her face. "I'm bored. I'm going to go see if there's any new gossip circulating."

"I'll join you," Louise said and the two girls departed.

Paris and Tristan stood side-by-side, gazes fixed to the Gilmores who were now being greeted by the DuGreys. Tristan hoped his parents didn't say anything incredibly snobby or didn't look at Rory and her mother like they were anything less than worthy of being there. Of course, his hopes were shattered as his grandmother refused to shake hands with Lorelai. But to his surprise, the older woman merely smiled and Tristan felt a smile tug at his lips as he saw her roll her eyes and scowl behind his mother's back. Rory put a hand on her mouth, probably to subdue a giggle.

"You should go say hi," Paris said suddenly and he looked down at her. She was looking at him and he realized that she had been watching him watch Rory. "I'm sure she'll be polite in front of your parents."

"I'm in no rush," Tristan returned smoothly. "I don't really care if I bump into her at all. I didn't invite her to this party. Hell, I didn't even arrange this party. In fact if this celebration were up to me, it would be a private one, with just me and one very special lady." He looked down at Paris and wiggled his brows suggestively.

Instead of blushing and fumbling like she always did around him, Paris simply smiled sarcastically. Junior year had been good to her, he understood. She had gained confidence. "How utterly romantic."

"You have to admit, it's a banging way of celebrating a birthday," Tristan leered.

This time, Paris colored a little. "Extremely bad pun, Tristan."

He laughed. "Come on Paris, don't deny you haven't thought of it."

She looked up at him, amusement gone but friendliness still in her brown depths. "That was a long time ago. I couldn't wait around for you forever, you know."

Softening a bit, he let his finger trace a path down her cheek. "You shouldn't have to wait around for anyone, Paris. And I am really sorry how things ended between us and I never meant to hurt you."

Paris let her gaze drop to her hands. "You did. And I know."

"I've known you for a long time, I don't want the past to get between us."

Paris sighed and then lifted her eyes to his again, brown locking with blue. "It never really was about you, Tristan. I mean it was in the beginning…but I knew we never could be more than what we are. What I am trying to say is that I never let what happened between us get between our friendship."

Tristan leaned against the pillar again and pocketed his hands, giving Rory a sideward glance. "But it got between you and her?"

"She was angry with you, I was angry with her…we didn't even try to get along." The regret in her voice was clear. Tristan knew that Paris actually liked Rory because there was nothing about the girl that someone could dislike. Except for her stubbornness. "I got over her being smart and I got over her being my equal so I had to blame her for something. You were just convenient."

"Glad to be of service," Tristan chuckled. She shot him a 'you know what I mean' look. He straightened up and she pushed herself off the pillar and they faced each other and he raised his brow and grinned. "So is my cold sore all clear?"

She looked up at him puzzled. "What?"

"A birthday kiss, Paris," he clarified with a grin. "I think I deserve one from an old friend."

Paris smiled, stood on her heels and kissed his cheek softly. He let surprise settle over his features but as she looked into his eyes, he remembered that parents and peers surrounded them and the last thing either of them needed was the gossip mill churning out meaningless garbage. "Happy Birthday and welcome home."

~*~ ~*~ ~*~ 

Rory turned away from Paris and Tristan's intimate moment by the pillar and tried to focus on something else other than the unsettling feeling in her stomach. Those two had made her sophomore year a living hell and she wasn't going to let them do it again. Paris had been snotty but civil during junior year and Rory had been so busy with tests and SATs that year she didn't even have the time to care. But senior year, her last year would be easier. Granted nothing was ever easy as Chilton, but knowing that Harvard was only a year away, gave her more determination and let her separate trivial from important. And Harvard was important. Tristan DuGrey may be back in her life, but she was definitely not going to let him ruin it for her.

As she turned around to wander aimlessly about the mansion, she ran into her grandmother. Emily smiled and steadied herself. "Rory darling, what are you doing? Why you still have Tristan's gift. Why haven't you given it to him yet?"

Rory groaned inwardly. Why did she have to personally hand Tristan the gift? Couldn't she just leave it somewhere? Seeing the expectant look on her grandmother's face, she simply smiled. "I was going to go look for him. Excuse me."

Emily patted her on the shoulder and then went to mingle. Rory looked around for Lorelai, hoping her mother would find a way out of her dilemma. When she couldn't spot her mother, Rory scrunched her face in frustration. "This sucks!"

"Talking to yourself, Mary?" The familiarly lazy, husky voice sent a slight tremble up her spine and memories assaulted her mind. When his usage of her much hated nickname set in, she scowled and turned to face him. The retort that she had prepared was cut off momentarily as she took him in. The tousled hair, the chiseled face, the bedroom eyes and the lazy smirk…she marveled at how little he had changed. 

"Tristan," she said and chastised herself for sounding breathless. She stood up straighter as he regarded her coolly and her former comment surfaced. "I thought you dropped off the face of this Earth."

His expression didn't change and amusement entered his eyes. "No such luck."

"Pity," Rory replied and then shoved the small gift bag in her hand in his face. "Well, here you go. Happy Birthday."

He looked at the gift in her hands, then back up at her before taking it. "Why I didn't know you cared."

"I don't," she shot back and plastered a fake sweet smile. "It's from my grandparents."

"Why are you here? If you don't want to be."

"Didn't have much of a choice," she replied with a shrug. "So where exactly did you disappear to? Were the girls at Chilton really starting to get boring?"

"No," he shot back quickly. "Just one." 

She hoped the hurt she felt at his comment wasn't visible to him. She set her mouth in a scowl and was about to turn away from him when she bumped into her mother. Lorelai Gilmore had the worse timing ever. "Hey babe, you should see the socks drawers these people have! And the bedrooms! Can you say boring? Except for this one bedroom, it was kind of neat. Had some posters and stuff. Must be Tristan's."

Rory closed her eyes and could almost _hear_ Tristan's smirk. Lorelai looked over Rory's shoulder confused as Tristan replied. "I have to get a lock on that door then."

Lorelai looked down at Rory and then back up at Tristan. "Hi, I'm Lorelai Gilmore. You must be the kid this whole shindig has been set up for. Tristan, isn't it? The one that tormented my daughter throughout her sophomore year? The devil in disguise Tristan? Happy Birthday, by the way."

"Thank you, Miss Gilmore," Tristan stated as Rory wondered if running out in front of the valet was a graceful way to go.

"Lorelai," she repeated and the looked down at Rory and whispered. "Want to bail?" Rory shook her head slightly and then turned to face Tristan. "So Tristan, you've been MIA for quite some time now. Bailed out of hell?"

"Excuse me?"

"Chilton," Lorelai clarified and Rory wondered what in the world her mother was doing striking up conversation with Tristan.

"Something like that, Lorelai," Tristan answered, smiling widely. Rory's gaped at him. He actually liked her mother. She crossed her arms over her chest and watched as his gaze dropped from her mother to her briefly. "Needed a change of scenery."

"Say no more," Lorelai nodded in agreement. "The folks breathing down your neck too much? Believe me, been there and done that. I bailed outta my parents' home faster than a bat out of hell. It's been me and my pal, Rory for seventeen wonderful years."

Rory shook her head in amazement and then nudged her mother in the chest. "Mom, let's go find Grandpa."

"Why would we want to do that?" Lorelai asked in confusion. "I was going to sneak into the kitchen and see if I could find a stash of coffee. I've had one cup since this afternoon. I'm in withdrawal."

A woman carrying a tray of champagne glasses passed by and Tristan stopped her. He glanced down at the nametag on her uniform. "Maria, do you think you can take Miss Gilmore here into the kitchen and make her a cup of coffee."

The woman nodded and Lorelai chirped gleefully. "Wow, he sure knows how to please a woman." She stepped forward and placed a hand on his shoulder and grinned. "You have both feet firmly planted on the road to redemption O' Evil One. May the good Lord see that you do not go astray."

Before Rory could protest, Lorelai was following Maria towards the back of the mansion. Tristan was smirking as his eyes locked with Rory's. "So, I'm the devil incarnate? I'm touched. Really, I am."

"Whatever," Rory mumbled, still upset with her mother. She turned away from him and started to walk away and he followed. She sighed and muttered under her breath. "Some things never change."

"I think she likes me," he stated.

"You heard her," Rory shot back. "She's in withdrawal. As soon as she has caffeine in her system, she'll change her mind."

He stopped suddenly, which caused her to do so as well and whirl to face him. His face was set in a serious expression, his blue eyes shining with something she couldn't put her finger on. "I'm not going to make senior year hard for you, Mary."

"Sure you're not," she answered rolling her eyes.

He ignored her. "In fact, I'm going to stay as far away from you as I possibly can. So you don't have to worry about it. Some things do change."

Before she could say anything, he disappeared into the crowd, leaving her dumbfounded and confused.


	3. Chapter 3: Reflection and Contemplation

Chapter 3: Reflection and Contemplation 

"Hell again," Lorelai announced as she stopped the Jeep in front of Chilton on Monday. "I must say, every time I see this place, I'm reminded of home…oh yeah, that's because I grew up in hell!"

Rory checked her bag again, hoping that she had everything she needed and smiled wanly at her mother. "Just count your blessings that you don't have to go in there."

"Everyday, babe."

Rory leaned forward and kissed her mother on the cheek before hopping out of the Jeep. "You know Mom, you could buy me a car and that way you won't have to drive me here and you can avoid seeing Hell."

"Nice try kiddo but I see Hell every Friday," Lorelai answered with a smirk. "Have fun and don't do anything I wouldn't be caught dead doing. Like studying. Or reading too much. Or actually listening in class. Oh and none of that calculus stuff!"

"Mom," Rory warned, rolled her eyes and closed the door but Lorelai managed to roll down the window.

"Sleep a lot."

"Mom…"

"Throw flying airplanes at kids who aren't looking!" Lorelai added

"Mom!"

"Ooh-ooh! Cut class!" she stated gleefully.

"Lorelai!" Rory stated mother-like.

Lorelai burst into a big smile. "Have fun, sweetie."

"Bye, Mom." Rory sighed as Lorelai drove away and then let out a labored breath. She looked at the imposing stone building behind her and wondered how she had managed to make it to her last year at Chilton. "Just one more year."

Proud of herself, she slung her backpack over her shoulder and started to walk to the main entrance when loud music started to fill the air and students around her turned towards the parking lot. Wondering what the commotion was about, she turned only to find a black Porsche rolling into the parking lot, windows down and Nelly's "Ride With Me" blaring on full blast. She didn't have to guess who the car belonged to and found herself rolling her eyes again as Tristan emerged from the driver's seat. He was immediately engulfed by most of the female population a long with some of his buddies. A voice behind her had Rory turning to see whom it was. Madeline smiled. "Some things never change."

"You can say that again," Rory replied wondering when Louise and Paris were going to pop up behind her. "It's like he never left."

"Actually, it's like he just came back. Which I guess he did." Madeline answered, her trademark-confused expression settling over her features. "I am surprised that they don't have a banner flying with the words 'Welcome Home Tristan' printed out."

Rory smirked, surprised by Madeline's tone. "I thought you liked Tristan."

"I do," Madeline answered with a nod and the two girls returned their eyes to Tristan who was quite clearly enjoying all the attention as he laughed and flirted with the girls around him. "You'd have to be blind not to see what a hunk he is."

Rory raised an eyebrow. "Really?"

Madeline's mouth dropped. "You don't think Tristan is hot?" _Do you, Rory_? A voice asked mockingly to her. Before she could answer, Madeline nodded in understanding. "Oh yeah, he's not your type. You're all for the dark-haired, motorcycle riding guys. But still, I don't see how you don't find Tristan attractive."

Rory was finding it hard to get a word out because she was interrupted again, this time by Louise and Paris. Paris didn't glare at Rory and Louise raised a speculative eyebrow. Paris turned to Madeline and Rory was sure she was going to reprimand the dark-haired girl for hanging around Rory. "Have you drooled long enough, Madeline?"

"Nope," Madeline answered gleefully and Paris rolled her eyes.

"I just got here so I would like some more drooling time," Louise added. Paris scowled and Rory couldn't help but grin a little. Paris shot her a glare. "Paris, you had your fun with Tristan at his party. Now it's my turn."

"He's not a piece of meat," Paris snapped.

"You're just saying that because you want to get him without any competition this time around." Louise's eyes settled on Rory.

Paris closed her eyes and shook her head. "Do whatever you want. I'm heading to my locker."

Paris left and her two companions followed suit. It was Rory's turn to roll her eyes. If those three weren't making Chilton difficult for her, they were amusing and in an odd way it was comforting. She was about to turn and leave herself, when she realized that Tristan was heading straight for her. Unbidden, her feet wouldn't budge and her pulse sped up as he approached. Steeling her nerves, she was ready to retort to any of his comments.

But to her surprise, Tristan breezed past her, smiling only slightly. She furrowed her brow in confusion as he looked over his shoulder and hitched his head in acknowledgement. "Hey Mary."

He was gone before she could open her mouth. Closing her eyes and letting out a sigh, she adjusted her knapsack on her shoulder and walked to the main entrance, muttering under her breath. "It's Rory."

Well, it was working.

He had avoided staring at her, stopping at her locker to tease her and he was kind of proud of his coolness towards her in the morning. The casual greeting was inspired. He had the satisfaction of knowing that she was frustrated by the greeting when he saw her furrow her brow and he was sure, he had caught her staring at him once or twice. Okay, it wasn't an admiring or longing glance as much as it was a contemplative one but at least she was looking.

When he got to his locker, he was surprised to see Paris there. She leaned against the locker beside his and smiled. She was acting weird with all the smiling she was doing recently. "What?"

"Good job."

"Excuse me?"

"Playing it cool," Paris clarified. He looked at her oddly as he unpacked his bag. She shook her head. "With Rory. Avoiding her. Not talking much. Not acting like her love-sick lapdog."

"I never acted like a love-sick lapdog." Paris gave him a pointed look and he sighed. "Okay, so I was lost for a little while. That was ages ago. It's over."

"So then why the avoidance?" Paris asked and Tristan could tell she wasn't buying it. He hated himself for it but the torch that he held for Rory was still there. He still liked her a lot. And he would jump at the chance to have at least one date with her. He was utterly pathetic. "Tristan?"

"Oh," Tristan said as he and Paris headed down the halls, earning suspicious glances from people around them. "I haven't been avoiding. It's not like we're friends, Paris. She doesn't want me around. I don't want to be around her, either." _Oooh good one, DuGrey_, he thought to himself bitterly. _You're really getting good at denial._

"I have to say I am impressed," Paris stated with a small smile. "It's mean and all I'm sure, but getting her riled up like this is pretty amusing."

Tristan stopped at the door of _The Franklin_ and looked at her in surprise. "What do you mean getting her riled up?"

Paris shook her head a placed a hand on his shoulder. "Figure it out for yourself, Tristan. You'd be surprised."

As she moved to the door, he blocked her path by putting his body in front of hers to stop her from getting into the newspaper's office. She looked at him, raising an eyebrow and he wondered when it was that Paris Gellar, a girl he had known his entire life, had become so spunky. He smiled at her charmingly. "Paris, sweetheart, what aren't you telling me?"

"She misses not being able to spar with you. Verbally." Paris' answer was short and precise. Like it always had been. It was good to know she hadn't changed completely.

He rolled his tongue over his front teeth. "She misses that, huh?"

"Yes, now do you mind? I need to get into that room."

"How do you know?" Tristan asked, ignoring her. "You're not her best friend, Paris."

"I know Rory. I know what you inspire in her and what she inspires in you. It's really pathetic." Paris answered, amusement in her eyes. "Now can I go Don Juan?"

Tristan smirked at her and leaned in to her naturally. "After I get a kiss."

Paris rolled her eyes. "Get out of my way, Tristan."

"Sorry," Tristan laughed. "Old habits. Die hard…you know."

Paris rolled her eyes. "You seem to have a lot of those. Flirting, Rory Gilmore…"

Tristan laughed again and shook his head. "I missed you, Paris." She smiled and walked into the office. With a sigh, he shifted his book from one hand to the other and pocketed his hand. "Rory Gilmore…let's see how 'riled' up I can get you. Senior year is going to be fun."

- & -

"Do you think Tristan is cute?" Rory asked as she slammed her books on the table at Luke's and took a big gulp of her mother's coffee. She had just got to the diner from school and was still in her uniform.

Lorelai's eyes perked up and her mouth formed an 'O'. "Why do you ask, oh daughter of mine? Are your eyes wandering? Is Dean not fulfilling your female needs anymore? Are you having an affair and asking for my approval?"

"No!" Rory stated forcefully. "Of course, I am not having an affair!"

Lorelai looked disappointed. "Damn! I could have used that as blackmail. Why did you have to be the poster child for innocence and purity and not a slut? Where did I go wrong?!"

"Mom," Rory warned and took another sip. "So, do you?"

"Why are you asking?"

"I had this conversation with Madeline today - "

"One of Paris' cronies?" Lorelai interrupted.

Rory nodded. "Anyway, she told me that Tristan wasn't my type and I wouldn't find him cute but I would have to be blind not to think that he was."

"So do you?" Lorelai asked, her eyes wide.

"I asked you first."

"That's irrelevant."

"Why is it irrelevant?" Rory asked in desperation.

"Because I am way older and it doesn't matter if I think he's cute or not…unless I wanted to be tried for pedophile… that would really suck. I wonder how long you go to jail for that. Or wait, would me dating Tristan be illegal?"

"Just idiotic," Rory corrected. "And disgusting. So you do think he's hot?"

"He could be in a boy-band." Lorelai answered with a small giggle.

"N'Sync or the Backstreet Boys?" Rory asked as she took her mother's fries.

"N'Sync…he could replace the ugly guy with the weird hair."

"That would be…?" Rory joked.

Lorelai laughed. "Good one. So do you think Tristan is cute?"

"I've never thought of him in those terms," Rory replied. "He's always been so annoying in the past!"

"And now…?"

Rory thought about how little she'd seen him all day. How he'd avoided her. How pompous he'd been. She frowned. "I don't think he's cute."

Lorelai furrowed her brows. "You're weird."

Rory smiled at Luke who appeared, filled her coffee and then disappeared without a word. She and her mother exchanged odd glances and then Lorelai just shrugged. Rory drank her coffee. "So would you have approved of my affair?"

"I'd have thrown a party." Lorelai confirmed and sipped her coffee.

"Thought so."


	4. Chapter 4: Well Isn't This Just Dandy?

Chapter 4: Well Isn't This Just Dandy? 

Someone tapped Rory on the shoulder and when she turned to see who it was, the person wasn't there. She rolled her eyes, shook her head and turned on the bench outside Luke's to find Dean sitting there with a smile on his face. She smiled back, leaned in and prepared to kiss him senseless. However, the lip lock she had imagined in her head never came. Instead, Dean's lips brushed hers just barely and before she knew it, he had pulled away. "How was school?"

She looked at him for a second, taking in the sight of him. Brown hair, beautiful eyes and great smile…he was definitely still beautiful. But she knew he always would be. Things like that didn't change but the feeling she got when she saw Dean had. Shaking her head, she smiled back. "It was school, Dean. And if that's not enough - it was Chilton."

"Say no more," he laughed and played with a strand of her hair.

"How was school for you?" she asked, ignoring the little voices in her head. But as he started to ramble about the load of work he had received, she found that ignoring her conscience was harder than she thought. _Is this all that there is between us now? Do we just sit and talk about school and everything else under the sun for the rest of our lives? What happened to the butterflies that took over my stomach when we first got together?_ She looked down at her stomach and then back up at her boyfriend.

Okay so they had had their share of problems. All relationships did, she reasoned. They had broken up when she had been unable to say the L word to him, then later when Luke's nephew Jess had come to Stars Hollow. Rory had developed a crush on the self-proclaimed King of Coolness but when the two of them realized that they were better off as friends, she had gotten back with Dean. Their relationship had been rocky after both break-ups, she relented but they worked everything out. And all was well.

"Hey guys," the familiarly deep voice made Rory smile brightly as she looked up at the dark-haired owner of the voice. As Jess sat down beside Rory, she noted how he could make her smile by just showing up and how Dean failed to do so recently. "What's happening?"

"Jess," Dean said noncommittally. Rory didn't blame Dean's apprehension towards Jess but didn't like that he wouldn't even try and be his friend. "We were just talking."

Jess arched an eyebrow at Rory and she could tell he was trying to suppress a grin. Imperceptibly, Rory nudged him in the elbow and he just nodded. Trying to dispel the tension, she sighed happily and rested her head on Dean's shoulder. "How was school, Jess? Are you planning on graduating or is Luke going to browbeat you into it?"

"Still working on a plan to ditch senior year," Jess answered with a wink. "You'll be the first to know before I blow this hellhole town."

Rory knew that Jess didn't mind Stars Hallow anymore and that he had grown fond of his uncle just as Luke had grown fond of him. Even if neither of them would admit it to one another. Ever. Dean cleared his throat and stood up. "Wanna go catch a movie?"

"Sure," Rory said and before she could stop herself, she raised an eyebrow in Jess' direction as the both stood up as well. "You coming, Jess?"

The way Dean stiffened behind her didn't go unnoticed by Rory or Jess. Jess looked over Rory's shoulder at the taller boy and then shook his head. "I think I'll pass. Luke needs help with a few things so I really should be going, anyway."

After he left, Rory turned to Dean with a smile, only to find him scowling in return. She furrowed her brow. "What?"

She saw him clench his jaw and then unclench it and take in a breath. "Did you have to invite him, Rory?"

"To the movies?" Rory asked confused. "I just…I thought he might like to come."

Dean looked visibly upset and she was frustrated that he had become so hard to read all of a sudden. She drew her bottom lips between her teeth and waited for his response. "I want to go to the movies, with my girlfriend. Alone."

"I was just being polite," Rory defended. "It isn't such a big deal, Dean. He said no, didn't he? So can we please stop this weirdness and go to the movies?"

"Weirdness?" he said slowly and let out a humorless chuckle. "This just keeps getting better and better.  Is being with me so weird to you? Can you not stand to be with me alone, anymore?"

"What?" she asked shocked by what he was saying - what he was thinking. Her mouth moved quickly to reassure him. More out of habit then anything else, she realized. "Of course not! I love you."

"Do you, Rory?" 

"What? Not this again! How many times do I have to say it for you to believe it?!" Rory was furious. How many times, in how many different languages did she have to tell him that she loved him for her to get him to trust her?

Dean lost the anger and looked confused. "I didn't say that!"

"Then what did you say?"

"I just…I don't think you want to be my girlfriend anymore," Dean replied with a shrug. "You seem to care about Jess more than me."

Rory shook her head in anger and clenched her fists at her side. She wasn't even going to dignify that comment with a response. Instead, she picked up her bag and looked up at him indignantly. "I'm going home. Call me when you're ready to act like a grown-up."

She stalked away, ignoring the fact that he was calling her name. She decided that he had probably given up because he didn't come running after her. She found herself at Luke's and was relieved to see her mother there. When she sat down, Lorelai smiled brightly at her daughter's scowl. "Hey Oscar, what happened?"

"Dean and I had a fight," Rory answered glumly just as Luke appeared with a pot of coffee.

It was Luke's turn to scowl. "That kid is really a jerk. Do you want me to hit him? You know, I could. Just teach him a thing or two about treating a lady."

Lorelai glared at him. "Luke, no violence!"

"I have to agree with her," Rory answered although the thought of hurting Dean seemed appealing to her at the moment. Luke grunted and left, muttering something about punks. She sighed trying to calm herself down. "This is getting so tiring!"

"The fighting?" Lorelai asked seriously.

"Everything with Dean is getting tiring," Rory replied and bit into a French fry. "I don't know anymore, Mom. I just don't think I want to be with him. I don't think I can handle it."

"Hey," Lorelai soothed softly. 'That's okay. You're young. And honey, I don't want to state the obvious but you and Dean have never really been a steady couple. What is this, like, break-up number three? Sheesh, if you got married to him, you would break Patty's record. Now that's saying something, babe."

"I know," Rory stated with a sigh. "I'm not sure if I have the strength to break up with him, even. Because somehow, we manage to get back together and things are always different and hard. It's not like when we first got together."

"I'm sorry, babe."

"So am I." There were a couple of minutes of silence before Lorelai looked at Rory expectantly. Rory blinked twice, not knowing what he mother was looking at. Then, realization dawned. "Oh no! NO!"

"Why not?" Lorelai asked with a pout. "It'll make you feel better!"

"Mom," Rory said and took a sharp, determined bite out of Lorelai's hamburger. "I'm not wallowing."

~*~ ~*~ ~*~ 

"So, Tristan, what time do you think you'll be able to pick me up, tonight?" Melody Lavelle asked him a few days later at Chilton. She was leaning seductively against the locker next to his, a bedroom smile on her lips and her eyes bating at him bashfully. Tristan tried to stop the smirk that found its way to his mouth. Bashful? Melody Lavelle was a lot of things. Bashful wasn't one of them. 

He pretended to play dumb. "For what, Mel?"

"The welcome home party, I am throwing you."

"I already had one of those," he answered closing his locker. 

"Yes," she replied with a mischievous grin. "But this one is a private one. Just me and you…and my empty house. I'm sure you'll have a lot of fun."

Tristan shook his head. When did girls who threw themselves at him become such a turn-off for him? _Always,_ a voice replied. _You've always wanted the unattainable, DuGrey. Someone like Rory Gilmore._ He sighed and ran a hand through his hair, cursing his conscience. It had a knack for saying the wrong things at the wrong times. Before he could answer, however, Paris was by his side answering for him. "Melody, Tristan can't make it tonight. He has that thing to attend."

"Thing?" Melody asked suspiciously, eyeing Paris like a tiger watching her prey. Tristan would have laughed if he weren't mentally going through the list of things he had to do and wondering what Paris was talking about. "What thing?"

"Some thing," Paris answered dismissively. "You remember don't you, Tristan?"

"Uh, yeah," Tristan stammered a bit then flashed Melody a charming yet apologetic smile. He pulled Paris towards him in a possessive manner and smirked at the astonished look in her eyes. "Paris and I have a _thing_ we need to do. Maybe some other time, Mel?"

Melody flipped her dark hair over her shoulder and pushed off the locker. "Maybe not."

As soon as the brunette strutted away, Tristan let out a laugh and looked down at Paris who was still molded to him. "I'm going to have to keep you around, Gellar. You're my lucky whore repellent."

"Don't I feel special?" Paris shot back dryly as Tristan let her go. They started to walk to homeroom together, smiling at each other as if they had just shared a secret joke. "So why is it that girls have to put extra effort into prettying themselves up around you, this year?"

"What do you mean?" Tristan asked confused.

"What happened to the I'll-get-into-any-semi-attractive-girl's-pants Tristan?" Paris answered with a smirk of her own. Tristan was beginning to think that she had spent hours perfecting that smirk over the last year. "Don't tell me you've given up your old ways, now."

They rounded the corner and walked to the first door as Tristan grinned. "Never. I'm just on California timing still. This jet lag is a bitch."

Paris scoffed. "I bet."

When they walked into class together, all eyes immediately flew to them. Louise smirked, Madeline furrowed her brow in confusion and he rest of the class resumed their chatter, oiled by the latest blooming friendship between Tristan and Paris. Feeling devilish, Tristan bent down low and whispered into Paris' ear. "Giggle."

Instinctively and unconsciously, Paris leaned in against him and tilted her head to the side to hear him better. "What?"

"Pretend I said something funny and giggle," he repeated, letting his breath hit the back of her neck so she would shiver for the desired effect. Paris caught on and let out a small nervous giggle, looking up at him through her lashes before walking away and heading for her desk between Louise and Madeline. The two girls immediately attacked Paris, asking her questions that Tristan could tell she was having a ball answering. "Gotta love, Chilton." 

"Mr. DuGrey, I'm sure you can find yourself a seat," Ms. Horton said indicating to the clock behind him. "We need to start class."

"Ma'am," Tristan acknowledged and looked around for a seat. Suddenly, his gaze locked with Rory's and he realized that the only seat left was the one behind her. He smiled lightly at her and casually made his way over. She was looking at him. Staring. She probably saw him with Paris. This was good. He sat down behind her. "Mary."

His semi-smile turned into a full-fledged grin as he heard her mutter under her breath. "Jerk."

The class continued and Tristan was so caught up in taking notes, he almost missed that Ms. Horton was planning on making groups for some project. He sighed, hoping that he could pick his own group but knowing that at Chilton, that was impossible. He waited for Ms. Horton to call out his name and attach him to a bunch of people he didn't like. "Ms. Gilmore, Ms. Gellar and Mr. DuGrey…Ms. Shafer, Mr. Thompson - "

As she continued, Tristan felt his smile returning and chuckled as he heard Rory mutter something again. Her head snapped up and she turned around and glared at him. Tucking his pencil behind his ear, he leaned back against the chair and stared at the back of Rory's head and studied the curve of her neck. Maybe senior year wasn't going to be that bad after all.


	5. Chapter 5: Study Night From Hell

Chapter 5: Study Night From Hell

"So Tristan and Paris?" Lorelai asked taking a sip of coffee. "In our house? The two of them? Together? With you? Should I be scared? Because I am. It's terrifying. Should Luke and I stay with you guys?"

"Mom," Rory said warningly as she rummaged through her desk, looking for notebooks and pencils. "I can handle Paris and Tristan. You and Luke go out. Have fun. Be hormone driven teenagers, like you always are."

Lorelai grinned wistfully for a minute, thinking about Luke. Rory rolled her eyes. Ever since her mother has started dating Luke, she was so out of whack that Rory wanted to scream. She was happy for her mother, but if only she didn't have to catch Lorelai making out with Luke every time she walked into the house, Rory would be happier. "Okay but I'll stay if you need me to. I can substitute for the bear that was supposed to eat them up at the dance. I don't know what happened to it. I distinctly remember telling it to be there. Bears are so unpredictable."

"Just go," Rory said with a weary sigh. She wanted to save all her energy for the night ahead of her. She didn't want to waste it on her mother. "You're late and Luke gets cranky when you're late. Be home by twelve."

"Gosh, you're strict."

After Lorelai's departure, Rory trudged into the living room, getting ready to get straight to work once Tristan and Paris arrived. She didn't know how she'd got suckered into offering them to work on the project at her house but she vaguely remembered it had something to do with Tristan and Paris having no available space. _There's a sucker born every minute, Rory._ She sighed when the doorbell rang and walked unenthusiastically to the door. Paris and Tristan were standing there, together, guarded expressions on their faces. _I can already tell this night is going to be **so** much fun! _"Hey, come in."

"Tristan didn't believe me about Monty," Paris informed her as she stepped over the threshold.

Rory looked at the blond whose eyes suddenly came to life as amusement entered them. She looked at him with a small smile. "Monty is officially offended."

"My apologies," Tristan stated smoothly as he breezed past her and followed Paris into the living room.

Sighing again, Rory followed the two and decided to get straight to work before the tension in the room increased and one of them ended up saying something that could jeopardize the whole project. Paris eyed the living room. "It looks different."

"It's cleaner," Rory replied thinking back to the last time Paris had come over to study. "And we moved the coffee table a quarter of an inch to the left."

"That's it," Paris replied. The three of them stood there awkwardly for a minute, the tension thick and Rory was about to open her mouth and say something incredibly long to break the ice but was cut off by the blond girl. "I made an outline."

Rory opened her mouth to speak again. Then closed it. Then tried again. "That's a start."

"Should we get started, then?" Tristan asked finally. She nodded and motioned for them to make themselves comfortable. Paris slid onto the couch, slipping her book bag off her shoulder and onto the ground beside her and after much deliberation, Tristan picked the armchair and sprawled himself lazily on to it. His gaze connected with Rory's, who was watching his every move intently, and a whisper of the famous DuGrey smirk appeared. "So you're just going to stand there, Mary?"

She scowled at him, grateful that he was being the jerk she was used to dealing with instead of the aloof, I-couldn't-care-less Tristan. She ignored him and sat down on the ground across from Paris. In a matter of minutes, the three of them were engrossed in reading Paris' outline about the Vietnam War. Their solitude was interrupted however as the kitchen door opened and closed with a band, accompanied by Jess' voice. "Rory?"

She looked up, smiling slightly. "In the living room, Jess."

The dark-haired boy appeared, a Styrofoam cup of coffee in his hands and a lazy smile on his face. He didn't seem to be aware of Rory's guests as he strolled into the living room. "I come bearing coffee." Then he noticed Paris and his eyes flickered over Tristan before resting on the blond again. "Ah, you have company."

Rory walked up to him and grabbed the cup of coffee from his hands and reverently took a sip of the life giving liquid. "You are a God. I worship you. Make sacrifices in your name. I will devote my life to serving only you."

"Now there's a thought," he replied coolly as his gaze remained fixed on Paris. He strolled over to her and she regarded him with the same amount of circumspection as he did her. "Hey."

"Hi," she answered and for a moment, Rory saw the shy, insecure, fumbling Paris emerge. But she was gone and she turned back to her outline.

Jess looked at Tristan again. "And you must be Rory's friends from Chilton."

"Wouldn't really use the word friend," Tristan replied glancing over Jess' shoulder at Rory. She frowned slightly. "Tristan DuGrey."

Jess turned around and raised an eyebrow at Rory. "_The_ Tristan?"

Rory groaned as both Paris and Tristan smirked identically. "It's good to know that my reputation precedes me. Really Mary, did you miss me that much?"

"Like a hole in my head," she snapped back which only caused him to grin more and then go back to studying his outline. She looked away frustrated and cursing Jess in her head. "Don't you have somewhere to be, Jess? Like work?"

"Not anymore," Jess answered as he slid onto the couch next to Paris, who smiled at him coyly and moved slightly to give him more room. "You must be Louise."

"Paris," the blond answered looking offended.

"Beautiful city," Jess murmured looking Paris straight in the eye.

"And you would know how exactly?" Rory asked rolling her eyes and placing her hands on her hips.

"I've seen pictures," Jess answered as he picked up Rory's copy of Paris' outline and leafed through it. "Oh so this isn't a social call."

"Like I said," Tristan answered without looking up from his outline. "We're not friends."

Rory glared at him and was about to say something when the phone rang. Sighing, she picked it up. "Hello?"

"Save me!"

"Lane?"

"My mom set me up again!"

"With the pharmacist?" Rory asked confused.

"Neurosurgeon," Lane whined. "He plans on studying in the US and moving to Korea to work. He's a Saint according to my mother."

"What happened to the pharmacist?"

"Would you drop that already?"

"Sorry," Rory answered. "What do you want me to do?"

"You need to be my alibi," Lane replied in a whisper. "The only way she'll let me off is if I tell her that you're helping me with my school work."

"But Tristan and Paris are here," Rory stated glancing at her two classmates who talking animatedly to Jess. "Remember I told you that we were assigned a project together?"

"I'll be quiet," Lane answered. "Maybe I'll learn something! Rory! I'm desperate!"

"Fine," Rory sighed and then snickered. "Jess is here too. Maybe you can sucker him into becoming your alibi."

"I'd rather go out with the neurosurgeon," Lane scoffed. She and Jess didn't get along very well, mainly because of the fact that they had a difference of opinion on every topic on the planet. "Wait…Tristan? I thought he disappeared?"

"I wish," It was Rory's turn to scoff as he gaze settled on her torturer. "I'll explain later. See you soon."

Lane hung up and Rory took her place on the ground again, hoping that everyone else in the room would get the point. Much to her chagrin, Paris and Jess continued to flirt while Tristan was being even more unpredictable by actually appearing engrossed in the project. Lane showed up five minutes later, bursting through the backdoor like Jess had. "Hey guys!"

Rory didn't look up from her outline. "Hey Lane, you remember Paris, right? That's Tristan. Tristan, Paris - Lane Kim."

"Hi Paris, Tristan…Jess," Lane said, her voice becoming disgusted as she said the last name.

"Kim," Jess answered coolly. "Did you gain weight?"

Rory scowled again as Jess and Lane launched into an argument. Paris watched Jess with a smile on her face and Tristan snickered once in a while, when Lane or Jess got in a good jab that he found amusing. _Am I the only one who cares about this project, at all? What has gotten into Paris? As soon as Jess walked in, she's suddenly Miss I-Don't-Care. _Sighing, Rory stood up and announced that she was going to get some coffee and something to eat.

"I'll help," Tristan offered much to her surprise and pushed himself off the recliner. She shrugged and let him follow her into the kitchen. His offer of aid was an empty one, as he stood around watching her closely. Unnerved but not wanting to show it, put on a pot of coffee and then started to unwrap Twinkie bars. Tristan walked up closer, which caused her heart to speed up and started to help her with the snack. "So at first I thought Jess was your boyfriend. But you don't seem jealous of him flirting with Paris. So I cancelled that conclusion."

"Good going, Sherlock," Rory retorted.

If he was hurt by her curt tone, he didn't show it. "So you're still with Dean?"

"Kind of," she found herself answering. Why in the world didn't she just say yes?

"Meaning?"

"We're not speaking to each other at the moment," she replied. _Shut up, Rory!_

"Last time I checked in on the two of you, you two were joined at the lips," Tristan stated, a smidgen of bitterness in his voice. "I thought you'd be married by now or something."

"Well, you thought wrong."

"So he doesn't want to be your boyfriend, anymore? Again."

"We're not having this conversation," Rory stated as she placed the last Twinkie on the plate.

"Why not?"

"Because you just said that we're not friends. Repeatedly."

Tristan sighed and then looked at her. Unbidden, she replied and looked at him, their gazes locking again. She saw something flickered in the deep blue pools and Rory unconsciously clenched her fists to prevent her from touching his face. "That's not my fault."

"It's mine?" Rory asked incredulously.

"Well you if my memory serves me well, you're the one who so vehemently made it clear that you wanted nothing to do with me," he countered taking a step closer.

"What?"

"You said you hated me." 

Rory looked away from him and suddenly, the last day of sophomore year flashed before her eyes and she remembered. She didn't remember saying it because she hadn't even realized that she had said it. It was just a line. Something that came out of her mouth to get Dean to stop and listen to her. She had never meant it. Her eyes were wide and apologetic when they locked with his again. "I didn't mean it."

"Sure you didn't," he replied with a grunt. "You meant it."

"I did not!" she stated not caring that the coffeemaker had just beeped. "I was just mad at you about the concert tickets. You made me really mad."

"All I wanted to do was take you out to see a woman whose music you enjoyed," he replied harshly. "You're the one that made a big deal out of it."

"Are you really still upset about that?"

"No!" he answered quickly. "I'm just pointing out the facts."

"That I ruined our friendship?"

"What friendship?" he scoffed.

She set her mouth in a scowl again and the crossed her arms over her chest. They regarded each other with anger. "You're such a jerk."

"Takes one to know one," he jeered back. 

"I really do hate you now," she stated although she didn't mean it again.

"Shut up!" he answered childishly.

"Make me!" When did their banter reduce to third-grade sparring matches?

"Thought you'd never ask," he muttered and without warning, he closed the distance between them, bent his head and crushed his mouth to hers. As soon as his lips touched hers, all rational thought flew out of her mind as it shut down completely. Her body kicked in and took over, her mouth moving in response to his and her hands that were crossed in front of her grasping the material of his shirt at his waist. His mouth was warm and soft as just like she remembered. Fireworks exploded in her head and butterflies spread their wings in her stomach as blood pounded in her ears. Then he pulled away, ignoring her slightly whimper of protest. When her eyes opened, she found him smirking again. "Rory Gilmore – speechless."

He left her there and waltzed back into the living room as if the kiss had meant nothing. As if he hadn't awaken every latent desire in her with just one kiss. As if the kiss hadn't affected him like it had affected her. Livid, she brought a trembling hand to her swollen lips and closed her eyes. "I hate you, Tristan."


	6. Chapter 6: Mission Statement

Chapter 6: Mission Statement 

_Stupid, stupid, stupid! _Tristan said to himself as he tried to focus on the words that were on the paper in front of him. _Are you mentally retarded or something? Rory Gilmore is off limits to you…do you need to remind yourself of that fact?_ He had intended to kiss her just to shut her up and to stop their insane childhood banter but once his lips were on hers, he couldn't tear himself away without claiming her mouth completely. _You should have known, DuGrey. You should have known._

"I'm telling you, it was the best movie ever!" Lane exclaimed, breaking Tristan's train of thought. "I mean, apart from the brilliant martial arts and special effects, Keanu Reeves in nothing but black leather is a definite five-star quality film!"

Jess scoffed. "It was a lame excuse for existentialism."

"So speaks the rebel without a cause," Lane retorted and Tristan rolled his eyes but couldn't help and grin. Rory's friends were bickering like children and it reminded him of his banter with her. _Until it turned into a third grade sparring match and you had to kiss her, DuGrey_. "So what is your idea of a good form of existentialism?"

"The Stranger."

"Really?" Paris asked and then scrunched her nose. "We had to read it last year at Chilton. Seemed pointless to me."

"You wrote a five page paper on it, Paris," Rory said finally and Tristan suddenly became interested in the conversation.

"Of course I did. That wasn't about liking it or not. It was about getting an A."

"Silly me," Rory deadpanned and rolled her eyes and Tristan smirked at her trademark response. Jess started to explain why he liked The Stranger and deiced that Paris needed to read for fun and not for school. Paris seemed enthralled by the idea and Tristan was sure that if no one else were in the room, she would have been completely over Rory's dark haired friend. Rory, who was twisting her pencil between her fingers suddenly decided that she had had enough. "Can we please get back to our project? For the last hour we've been talking about movies and books."

Had it really been an hour since their kiss? Tristan wondered as he stared at her. She refused to make eye contact with him ever since she had walked in from the kitchen and he found it amusing. She was nervous and confused again. He could handle a nervous Rory. He cleared his throat and like he expected, her eyes flew to his. "What's your rush, Mary?" 

"I'm not in a rush," she responded through gritted teeth. "I just want you out of my house as soon as possible."

"You wound me," he said placing a hand on his heart in mock hurt. "And to think that we were finally making progress and getting along in the kitchen sixty minutes ago."

Her eyes widened and then narrowed into angry slits. "We will never get along, Tristan."

Even when she was irate, he loved the way she said his name. Energized by the anger in her eyes and turned on by their normal more witty banter, he smirked. "Oh, how quickly you forget, my dear Mary. You didn't seem to mind much when I - "

"Oh-kay," she cut him off, her cheeks flaming red. _Perfect_, he thought and leaned back against the couch grinning. _She's embarrassed._ "Enough out of you, DuGrey. Just do the work and leave, okay?"

"She's right," Paris agreed and everyone turned to her for a minute. "We really should be getting to work. I have to be home soon and this project is due in a four days. We have a lot of work ahead of us and we really don't need any," she paused to look fleetingly at Jess "distractions."

Lane piped up. "You guys are going about this project all wrong." Paris, Rory and Tristan turned to her in surprise. "You're too disorganized. You have a bunch of stuff you can write about but you don't know what it is you really want to do."

"What do you mean?" Paris asked and Tristan could tell she was outraged to be told that she lacked organizational skills.

"Kim's trying to say that you need a mission statement," Jess answered for Lane. "You have all these balls up in the air and you really need to catch them. I'm not much for studying but I've spent enough time around Rory to know that that preppy school of yours takes it very seriously."

"They're right," Rory said finally. "We need a mission statement. A precise, focused argument. What do we want and how are we going to get it?"

Tristan, from his place on the armchair pondered. _What do I want?_ That was simple. He glanced at Rory's profile. _How do I get it? _That part was more difficult. Suddenly, he remembered that she had kissed him back. He had kissed her to shut her up but she was the one who responded and practically asked him to take it to the next level. _She must've wanted it as much as I did._ He started to grin and Rory threw him a puzzled glance before turning back to the project. But she would never admit it, he knew that much for sure. Not until he could convince her that she really wanted it. He was good at persuasion. 

As Paris and Rory started to work on a mission statement for the project, Tristan's mind was made up; his own personal mission statement extremely clear. He grinned and flipped lazily through the pages of Paris' outline. 

"Operation: Rory Gilmore" was officially under way.

~*~ ~*~ ~*~

"Hey," Paris greeted Rory the next day, right outside of Physics.

"Hey," Rory said as she fell in step with her nemesis turned friend turned nemesis again. "Weren't we supposed to meet at the library?"

"I can't make it," Paris answered. "I need to go home."

Rory stopped in her tracks. Did Paris Gellar just say she couldn't make it to an important study session? "What do you mean you need to go home?"

"Some thing has come up," Paris explained irritated. "My mother wants me home. I tried to get out of it but she says it's important. I don't know what's suddenly more important to her than my education but whatever. So I just wanted to tell you that I couldn't make it. You and Tristan can work on it as much as you can. I'll catch up as soon as I can."

"But Paris - " Rory protested but the blond was already walking away. 

"Look, I'm sorry. I'm sure you and Tristan can handle this. Just don't kill each other." Paris said over her shoulder and disappeared into the throng of Chilton students.

"I'm not promising anything," Rory grumbled as she made her way to the library. Tristan DuGrey had sauntered back into her life and he could make her blood boil just as easily as he could two years ago. He was still as stuck up as she remembered, still as cocky and he still played those stupid games with her head. 

"You know if you keep that up, your face will be permanently fixed in a scowl," a smooth voice came from behind her. She whirled around to see Tristan leaning against the double oak doors of the library, one hand in his pocket and a mocking expression on his face. "We can't have a Paris Gellar look alike walking around here, now can we?"

"Shut up, Tristan," Rory muttered as she brushed passed him on the way into the library. "We're stuck together for this stupid project and I would rather you just keep your mouth shut, let us get a good grade and then leave me alone."

"And she even sounds like Paris," Tristan stated as he followed her inside. She checked the urge to retort and wordlessly handed him a book from her knapsack. She pointed to a chair and he sat down obediently, a grin on his face. "So you're just not going to talk to me at all?"

She nodded and glued her eyes to the book in front of her. She heard his exaggerated sigh, the scraping of his chair and his muttered curses but ignored them all, meaning never to look at him. Her mind pushed away thoughts of Tristan to the back of her mind as she fell deeply into the project, jutting down notes in her notebook. 

An hour later, when Rory had exhausted all the pages of the book, she found her gaze slipping to Tristan's form as he hunched over his own work. She had never seen him concentrate on something so deeply; his brows furrowed together, his bottom lip tucked slightly between his teeth. _He's so gorgeous when he's not being annoying_, she thought and then gasped softly. _Where did that come from? Tristan is not gorgeous…he's Tristan! _

"Rory?"

The sound of her real name from his lips startled her and she locked her gaze with his blue one. "Yeah?"

"It's getting late, don't you need to catch a bus or something?" 

"Oh right, my bus. I was so caught up in my thoughts…thoughts about school and this project that I forgot that I had to catch my bus," she rambled as she stuffed her books into her knapsack. He grinned at her and she shot him a glare. "I haven't had coffee in hours."

"Must be hard," he stated in mock agreement. Her glare intensified and he chuckled. "If you need to, I can drop you off. I have a car."

"As much as I didn't need you to flash your money in my face," Rory started sarcastically. "I wouldn't want to impose. I live a half an hour away."

"The offer still stands," he said with a shrug of his shoulders and then pushed away from the table. He tucked his books under his arm and leaned forward, bringing his face close enough to hers so that she could feel his warm breath and be reminded of the kiss they had shared the night before. "See ya later, Mary."

She blinked twice and he was gone. Her heartbeat slowed down and she cursed herself for getting so worked up that she could remember the kiss. It was something she wanted to forget. He was infuriating. She couldn't stand him. The kiss had meant absolutely nothing. Angrily, she followed Tristan through the deserted hallways and stopped when he stopped near his locker. "Why'd you kiss me?"

His answer came quick. "To shut you up."

"There are other ways."

"Couldn't think of any," he replied with a shrug and opened his locker. "Besides, you kissed back."

She sighed. "I got caught up in the heat of the moment."

"So you agree that there was heat between us?" he said arching a lazy eyebrow in her direction.

"You were going to stay away from me," she reminded him and ignored his question.

"What can I say?" he said, his hands wide in a gesture of surrender. "You're irresistible to me, Mary. Besides, I have a mission statement. I know what I want and I'm going for it. Tristan DuGrey always gets what he wants."

She rolled her eyes at his arrogance. "What do you want?"

"You." The intense look in his eyes belied the simplicity of his answer as he gazed down the length of her form, making it clear what he meant.

She ignored how her pulse quickened as his declaration set in and crossed her arms over her chest. "I have a boyfriend."

"A mere technicality," Tristan shrugged and shut his locker. He turned to face her completely and pocketed his hands in his trousers. "Besides, you're not talking to Dean at the moment. Plenty of time for me to worm my way into your heart."

"Well you got the worm part right," Rory retorted and then raised an eyebrow at him. "And don't you mean my pants?"

"You said it, not me," he grinned and then leaned forward, his lips contorted in a trademark leer. "And if that's an invitation then…"

"You're incorrigible," she snapped.

"And you want me for it," he shot back easily. 

"I will never want you," she spat at him, furious that he had the gall to be so arrogant and sure of himself. And furious that she was flattered at the prospect of being pursued. Of being wanted.

"We'll wait and see," he said with a smirk and then brushed past her on his way. Over his shoulder, he called to her. "I'll be waiting in the car. It's the black BMW, if you didn't already know." 


	7. Chapter 7: The BreakUp Part 3

Chapter 7: The Break-Up Part 3 

"So," Lorelai said tapping her fingers on the counter as Rory entered the house, disheveled and frustrated from her car ride with Tristan. It wasn't like they had gotten into a fight – in fact, they had barely said two words to each other all the way to Stars' Hollow. It was what he had said in the hallways of Chilton that had Rory's thoughts and emotions in a constant tailspin. "Was that a black BMW that dropped you off?"

"Yes," Rory answered as she dropped her book bag near the door. "Coffee!"

"Bad day?" Lorelai questioned as she handed her daughter a mug. Rory grunted a 'yes'. "Ah, so we're going to talk in monosyllables today?"

Rory took a sip and spewed it out into a napkin. She looked at her mother, horrified. "Worst coffee ever! How long has that coffee been in the pot, Mom?"

Lorelai looked offended. "It hasn't been there _that _long…just a couple of hours." Rory gave her a pointed look. "Days?" Rory raised a disapproving eyebrow and the elder Gilmore sighed dramatically. "Okay, a week. It's been in the pot for a week!"

"You know what this means, right?" Rory asked, dumping the stale coffee into the sink.

"We go to Luke's?"

"Yes!"

"Good, that way you can tell me why Tristan is dropping you off all of a sudden and why you look so confused and frustrated." Lorelai said as she maneuvered her daughter out of the door. "Don't tell me you've been making nice with the spawn of Satan, now."

"Oh no," Rory said quickly. "Nothing between Tristan and me will ever be nice. He has this constant need around me to be a complete and utter jerk. Or when he's not being a jerk, he plays mind games. And when he's not playing mind games he's being all vulnerable and cute - "

"Aha!" Lorelai stated, pointing an accusing finger at Rory. "You admit he's cute."

"I did not say that," Rory said, furrowing her brows as the two caught sight of Luke's diner.

Lorelai scoffed. "You just said, and I quote, 'and when he's not playing mind games he's being all vulnerable and cute' and you did this little head tilt thingy and your eyes became wide and you almost smiled."

"I did no such thing!" Rory shot back as Lorelai pushed the door of the diner. "I merely stated, with no wistful facial expression whatsoever, that Tristan looked sad and very un-Tristan-like…and if cuteness is an un-Tristan-like quality than it can't be a Tristan-like quality."

Lorelai looked at her funny. "Lame, babe. Very lame."

Rory sat down at a table and glared at her mother. "That's not the point anyway. The point is that Tristan is infuriating." Rory spent the next five minutes telling her mother how Paris had left the two of them alone to work on the project and what Tristan had said in the hallway. "So basically, I'm his new project. Some kind of deranged mission statement."

"Or," Lorelai said taking a sip of her coffee. "He is being sincere."

"Not likely," Rory ridiculed.

"Babe, what are you so worried about? If he couldn't get you a year ago, he won't be able to get you, now. It's not like you're going to give in, anyway. Maybe he'll just get tired and give up." Lorelai stated logically.

"That is not how Tristan's warped mind operates," Rory muttered.

Lorelai shrugged and then excused herself, saying that she needed to go and see Luke. "It's been hours," she stated dramatically. "And I need coffee."

Rory played with the hem of her skirt, deep in thought. She was so immersed in trying to figure out how to keep Tristan at bay until her emotions weren't running so wildly, that she didn't notice Dean sitting in front of her. When her eyes finally connected with his, she let out a surprised yelp. "Dean! How long have you been there?"

"A couple of minutes," he returned amused. "You were thinking, I see."

Rory looked away guiltily for a second but then met his gaze again. "I had a lot on my mind."

Dean let out a sigh and rubbed the back of his neck. "I guess this is the part where we talk. Have that meaningful, _adult_ conversation, right?"

"Yeah," Rory nodded and crossed her arms on her lap. "Conversation is the one of the most primitive forms of communication, after all."

"Yes, it is," he agreed and raised a hopeful eyebrow in her direction. "Did you have something to say?"

"I'm not sure," she answered with another weary sigh. "I wish relationships came with some sort of script, you know? At least that way I would know my lines. Unless, I forgot them. This seems like one of those moments…because I usually start babbling and that's not always a…okay, I'll shut up now."

Dean let out a small chuckle and then set his lips in a grim line. "What's happening to us?"

"I don't know," Rory returned regretfully. "I still love you. It just…"

"Doesn't feel like it used to?" he filled in. She nodded, unable to repeat the words because she didn't really know what that meant for her or for them. They sat in uncomfortable silence and he cleared his throat. "I'm sorry for yelling the other day. But I feel like I don't know you anymore, Rory."

"That's my fault?" Rory asked, her eyes wide.

"No, I didn't say that," Dean answered and then paused. "It's just that somehow we managed to grow apart. Sometimes, it just there – we click and everything is like it used to be - "

It was Rory's turn to finish his thought. "And sometimes it's like you're not there at all and I'm looking at someone I barely know." Dean's eyes locked with hers again and he merely nodded. A lump formed in her throat and she pushed it back, not wanting to cry in front of him. "So what now?"

"We go our separate ways," he answered softly, painstakingly. Her eyes widened, not knowing if she was relieved or miserable. Somehow, she managed to nod. "And we wait and see if it's over or if we need a second chance."

"That's a good plan," Rory answered, her voice wavering. "I didn't want it to end like this. I am not even sure I ever imagined it ending at all."

"Believe me, neither did I." Dean looked around uncomfortably and then started to get up. "I need to get home and then head over to work. So I guess, I'll see you around."

"We live in the same town, Dean," Rory answered with a sad smile. "I'm sure we're bound to see each other once in a while."

"Just don't send Luke after me," he joked as he walked closer to her.

She managed a lop-sided smile. "I won't."

He leaned down and brushed his lips to her cheek. "Bye Rory."

"Bye," Rory returned and then watched as he made his way out of the diner. She was still staring at the door, watching one part of her life end and feeling sad and overwhelmed at the same time. Lorelai sat down across the table again and Luke walked up with two big mugs of coffee. Rory smiled at them. "We just broke up. Again."

"I'm sorry, kid," Lorelai stated, holding her daughter's hand. "But at least this time you were prepared. It was more of a break up than a dumping, right?"

"I knew the kid was trouble," Luke grumbled and Lorelai shot him a look. "I'm just saying that maybe it was for the best."

Rory nodded. "It was. But I feel sad, too. I guess I would've no matter what or how we broke up. Dean has been a big part of my life for wow, a year."

"I think it just needs time to sink in," her mother stated. "Now you can focus on other things. Like your last year of high school." 

Rory laughed as Luke went to tend to another customer. She glanced out the window and saw Dean talking to a girl she didn't know at the end of the street. No semblance of jealousy entered her heart or mind and she wondered if she should be pleased or worried. Deciding not to dwell on it for too long, she merely let out a sigh. _Goodbye Dean, _she thought and turned to listen to her mother's incessant rambling. 

_A/N: So this kind of turned out to be a Rory/Dean chapter but hey, I needed closure. Feedback is still cherished!_


	8. Chapter 8: Men Are From Mars

Chapter 8: Men Are From Mars

"Are you sure you're okay?" Lane prodded Rory the next afternoon at the local bookstore. "I mean you're not in need of some major TLC or anything at all right now? You don't want me to treat you like a delicate flower so in the end you can end up yelling at me and asking me not to treat you like a delicate flower?"

"I'm fine Lane," Rory answered as she picked up a copy of _Antigone. _"Really, I am in no funky mood. I am not going to break. This was a mutual break-up. No dumper and no dumpee."

"What happened? I thought you two were doing okay," Lane asked, putting a book on the shelf. She then gasped. "Something was wrong and you didn't tell me! You were having relationship problems and you didn't tell me! Why?" 

"Lane," Rory said as she grabbed her friend's flailing arms. "We were fine. But that's we ever were. It was something that just took us by surprise, okay? But it's over now. Please, I don't want to talk about this anymore."

"So do you want to talk about Tristan?" she asked with a sweet smile.

Rory glared at her. "No. I don't even want to think about him."

"But you are, aren't you?" Lane asked with sympathetic smile. "Come on Ror, the guy said that he wanted you. Do you know how many girls would kill to have someone say that to them? Doesn't it make you feel a little special?"

"No," Rory stated firmly. "And here's why: Tristan DuGrey has wanted a lot of girls in his pathetic existence. And they all fall at his feet as if he were a king or something. I am not going to lower myself to that status. This is a game for him and I'm not playing."

"But if he genuinely wanted you -"

"He doesn't."

"I'm speaking hypothetically," Lane corrected as the walked out of the bookstore. "_If _he genuinely wants you then would you want a relationship with him?"

Rory stopped and turned to look at her friend. "It doesn't matter. What I wanted from Tristan was friendship but he has to be the world's biggest jerk and cannot accept that so we're not friends. We'll never be friends."

"You still didn't answer my question," Lane observed a small smile on her face. "But I'll back off for now. Just don't blow of a potential romantic endeavor, okay?" Rory nodded slowly although she was telling her brain that Tristan would never qualify for that title. "I have to go. Call me."

"I will," Rory promised and then waved goodbye as Lane crossed the street. As she continued in the direction of her house, she spotted Jess walked towards her, a cool smile on his face. She narrowed her eyes as he fell into step beside her. "What?"

"I heard you broke up with Dean," he stated getting right to the point. "I wanted to see if you were up for a celebration."

Rory rolled her eyes. "I am so glad that you're finding joy in the failure of the only relationship I have ever had. It warms the cockles of my heart."

Jess pocketed his hands. "Hey, all I have to say that is about damn time. So are you busy tonight? I thought you could keep me company at the diner. Luke's a slave driver and I'm underpaid and overworked. I could use a friend."

"I would, but Paris and Tristan are coming over to finish the project," Rory explained and then smirked when she saw his ears perk up at the mention of Paris Gellar. She grinned mischievously. "You could stop by after you get off and drool over her."

"I do not drool," he stated unruffled by her teasing. 

"You like her."

"Yes, I do." Jess answered easily as they stepped into the Gilmore yard. "Do you have a problem with that?"

Rory shook her head. "No, I think…I don't know what I think. Paris Gellar is not like most girls you know. She's…intense. But then again, so are you so I guess that works out nicely. Seriously, she's - "

"A force of nature?" Jess supplied as Rory opened the front door.

"Yes," she answered. "But she's never had a boyfriend. She's just so – in your face. Are you sure you'll be able to handle her?"

"You're talking to me, here," Jess pointed out as they entered the kitchen. "Besides, I never said boyfriend. Paris is interesting. I'm sick and tired of dating airheads. She's challenging. It'll be fun."

Rory sighed and handed him a soda. "All of you men are alike. We're not toys, you know. You can't just say, 'hey, I want to see if I can mess with her head'. We have feelings."

"Somehow, I think we're not talking about me anymore," Jess said as he straddled a chair and took a sip of his soda.

Rory waved her hand. "You, Tristan – same difference."

"Ah, this is about DuGrey," Jess said understanding dawning over his features. He crossed his arms over the back of the chair and gave her a pointed look. "So I am assuming that he's the reason you broke up with Dean." Rory didn't dignify that with a response and merely glared at him. "Okay, so you're not that fickle. So he's messing with your head, huh?"

"Yes," Rory replied, waving her arms dramatically. "It's exasperating. One minute he's a jerk, the next he wants to be my friend, then – and this ones a beauty – he declares that he wants me."

"He works fast," Jess stated with admiration. "I like him."

"You're disgusting," Rory spat as she retreated to the living room. "The both of you."

Jess followed and without turning around, she knew that there was a smirk on his face. She sighed, put her hand on her hips and turned to face him, raising an eyebrow expectantly. "I don't think you're disgusted with DuGrey."

"You don't?"

"Not at all," Jess answered stepping closer and Rory knew that it was something he did to try and intimidate her. "In fact, I think that you're flattered and you want him to want you. Just like us men, you women are all alike. You want us to dote after you and court you and do all kinds of stuff to get your attention."

"If that's what you think then you know less about my gender than you think you do," Rory answered, not backing down. "I do not want Tristan to dote after me, I want him to - "

Jess raised an eyebrow when Rory didn't finish her sentence. "To lust after you," he completed instead with a knowing smile. "Come on Rory, don't tell me that this elusive game Tristan is playing doesn't appeal to you. He's mysterious, he's semi-dangerous, he's a rebel…and you know he wants you. Doesn't it make you feel so… in control?"

"I'm sorry, I'm not power hungry," Rory replied indignantly.

Jess sighed. "Okay, I'm going to go. Just think about what I said, okay? I'll drop by later to see you…and Paris."

Rory cracked a small smile as Jess strolled out of the house. Sighing and deciding not to think about what he said, she started to clean up the living room so that there was space to work when Paris and Tristan arrived. She got her notes from the day before and placed her book bag near the coffee table when then doorbell rang. Paris stood on the porch alone. "Hey, you're right on time."

"I usually am," Paris replied as she entered. "Tristan is going to be late. He said he needed to do something. I assume that you two have the same set of notes from yesterday?"

Rory flinched. "I…no, I don't. We kind of worked separately. I didn't copy his notes and he didn't copy mine."

"Well, I guess we'll work with what we have until he gets here," Paris shrugged and Rory was surprised that she hadn't started yelling. The blond caught her look and sighed. "Look, I am sorry for skipping out on you guys yesterday and about the other night. We got sidetracked. It won't happen again."

Rory grinned and sat down near the coffee table, across from Paris. "I should hope not - although Jess did say that he would be stopping by later. Are you sure you'll be able to ignore the temptation, Paris?" 

Paris' look was nonchalant. Rory's was challenging. Much to her surprise, Paris sighed wearily. "I have a lot on my mind. And by some weird karma thing the two of us end up spending a lot of time together despite our efforts not to."

"Are you suggesting that we try to get along?"

Paris became defensive. "Only if you want to."

"Do you want to?" Rory asked, glancing up from her notebook.

"It could be useful," Paris answered seriously. "We need to get an A."

"Right," Rory agreed with a nod. "That's all that matters." They both looked at each other and then returned to their respective notes. Not looking up from her book, Rory raised an eyebrow. "You still didn't answer my question."

"Would you mind repeating it?"

"You like Jess, don't you?"

Paris pretended to be writing. "And you like Tristan, don't you?"

"I asked first," Rory pointed out.

"You know," Paris said suddenly. "Jess told me that the two of you dated. That means that we have the same taste in men."

  
Rory shuddered. "Scary thought."

"Incredibly." 

~*~ ~*~ ~*~ 

As soon as Tristan walked into the Gilmore house, papers and pencils and two girls yelling out instructions at him as if there were no tomorrow attacked him. He grinned as the brunette and blond argued about the project and watched quietly, not wanting to be the target of their wrath. Paris finally glared at him. "What are you laughing at?"

"If you could see what I was witnessing, you'd be laughing too," he countered smoothly. "You two are quiet the pair."

"Yeah, we're a regular Thelma and Louise," Rory scoffed and then smacked him lightly on the arm. "Can you please be serious for one minute about this?"

"I am serious," Tristan answered. "If you two could just stop bickering and start working together as a group then maybe we could finish this."

"When did you become so level-headed?" Paris asked suspiciously.

"When the two of you became so hot-headed," he returned smoothly and then grabbed the book out of Paris' hand. "Why don't you work on the state of the US during the war while Mary here works on Vietnam."

"And what are you going to do?" Rory asked narrowing her eyes.

"I am going to work on the actual War," he answered. "Now get to work."

The next hour was spent finishing the project  - without any fights or interruptions. Jess stopped by as promised and helped with the editing and finishing touches. Then he excused himself to get a drink and Paris eventually followed. Rory smirked and shook her head. "Can they be any less discreet?" 

"I don't think so," Tristan said glad that she was addressing him like a normal person, with no contempt in her voice. "I don't remember seeing Paris this into a boy since…"

"You," Rory supplied with a knowing grin.

Tristan shrugged. "Maybe."

Rory took a deep breath and stretched, bringing her hands to the base of her neck and gently massaging the skin there. She closed her eyes and craned her neck and from his spot behind her, Tristan was mesmerized. He wondered how such a simple gesture on her part could turn him on but he shrugged it aside and slid down to the floor beside her. Slowly, he brought his hands to hers and pushed them aside. She tensed. "What -"

"Relax," he whispered as he touched the soft skin of her neck. Gently her rubbed his fingers in lazy circles, applying just the right amount of pressure to relieve the kinks in her neck and shoulders. She started to loosen up and even leaned in to his touch. Crazy with rampant desires and the feel of her skin under his fingertips, Tristan leaned in and let his lips graze her hair. She smelled fruity and fresh and he closed his eyes as his lips traveled to her ear. He smiled when she took in a breath and felt his own breath coming in short gasps. "Mary?"

"Yeah?" she asked her voice husky and dazed.

With Herculean strength, he tore himself away. "Do you want coffee?" he asked and his smirk reemerged.

Her eyes flew open and he saw a hint of desire in them that vanished as they diminished into angry slits. He didn't wait for her retort and just stood up and strolled into the kitchen. He laughed when she called after him. "Don't touch my coffee pot!"


	9. Chapter 9: Bad Health & A Good Memory

Chapter 9: Bad Health & A Good Memory

Rory looked morosely into the dark liquid in her mug and tried to tune out Paris, Jess and Tristan who were debating the superiority of soft rock over heavy metal. She didn't want to be part of the conversation for many reasons, the first and foremost being that she didn't want to address Tristan DuGrey in away way whatsoever. Her mind kept leaping back to the feel of his warm, strong hands on the back of her neck and shoulder. She shivered slightly as she thought about how he had brushed his lips ever so slightly over her ear lobe and whispered her much-hated nickname intimately in her ear. Somehow, when he said it in that tone, she wasn't the least bit repulsed by it. And she hated herself for being sick enough to get some weird thrill from him. 

Jess raised an eyebrow in her direction. "Are you cold, Rory?"

"Huh?" she asked and then shook her head vehemently. "I just…was thinking." She didn't have to meet Tristan's gaze to know that he was smirking. But as soon as Jess and Paris launched into a conversation again, she snuck a peek at the blond boy beside her, and sure enough he was looking at her with a semi-smirk. She met his gaze coolly. "What?"

"Nothing," he answered with a shrug and then leaned back in his chair, studying her unashamed. "I'm just looking at you. This florescent light does nothing for you skin."

She rolled her eyes at his trademark response. "Well stop it."

This amused him and he leaned closer again. His lips quirked into a smile as her breathing hitched. Her heart hammered in her chest as his eyes dropped from hers to her lips and unbidden, her tongue shot out and moistened them. "Why?"

She racked her brain for a coherent, witty answer but she came up short and started to sputter. "Because…it's rude."

His eyes darkened and his voice dropped an octave so it was barely above a whisper. "I didn't know it was rude to appreciate beauty."

Her eyes widened at the indirect compliment and she felt an inexplicable shudder run up her spine. Her reaction must've been one that he anticipated because he was smirking again. Suddenly, all warm feelings evacuated her body and her eyes narrowed into angry slits again. "I really despise you."

He put a hand on his heart and his lips became fuller as they formed a semi-pout. The warm, fuzzy feelings returned. "Mary, you wound me."

She ignored his expression. "Oh you don't even know how much harm I can cause you yet."

His laughter was rich and throaty and made Rory feel like she could spend very long amounts of time listening to it again and again. He leaned forward and pushed an errant strand of hair out of her face, his fingers grazing the skin of her cheeks and causing them to redden. "Somehow, I don't doubt that for a minute. You, Rory Gilmore, are very bad for my health."

His admission had her heart pounding again and she was about to open her mouth and answer him when Paris cut in. "Hey Romeo and Juliet, can you two stop staring at each other long enough to help me put the project away?"

Rory's gaze flickered to the entrance of the kitchen and she felt herself flush again as Jess and Paris grinned at her and walked into the living room. The sound of Tristan's chair scraping against the tiles brought her attention back to him and he simply shrugged, smirked and made his way to the living room.

"One of these days I am going to wipe that insufferable smirk off his face," Rory muttered as she got off her chair. Suddenly, Lane came barreling through the kitchen door, and excited smile in her face. "Hey you - "

"He asked me out!" Lane cut her off joyously. "I thought he'd probably forgotten about me and wham – he called me. Totally out of the blue. It's fate! I know it is!"

"Lane, who asked you out?" Rory asked confused.

"Henry!" her friend exclaimed.

"Chilton Henry?"

"How many Henrys do you know?" Lane asked exasperated.

"Well quite a few actually," Rory stated thoughtful. Lane gave her a warning look. "But this isn't about me. It's about you and Henry. Wow Lane, I thought that was over."

"So did I!" Lane said as sat down at the table and pulled Rory down with her. "But he called and said that he was thinking about me and that he missed me. Then he asked me if I was doing anything tomorrow and if I would go out with him. I said – sounding very cool  - that I thought it was a great idea." Then Lane paused and scrunched her nose in distaste. "It doesn't sound too cold does it? Should I have said that 'I would love to' or something gushy like that?"

"No it was fine." Rory said preoccupied. "But what about your mother?" 

Lane's eyes widened and her smile turned into a deep frown. Rory felt like a heel for ruining her friends' good mood but no one could accuse her of not being the voice of reason. "I forgot. She'd never say yes. She doesn't even know Henry. And if I explained now, she'd be so angry that I kept him from her that she wouldn't even consider it. Rory, what am I going to do?"

"See," Jess said from the entrance, Paris and Tristan behind him, before Rory could answer. "I told you it was no one important. Just Kim."

Lane glared at him and Rory held her hand in the air to stop him from saying anything further. "Jess, now is not the time. Lane is upset."

"What's the matter?" Paris asked as she sat down and Lane threw her a grateful smile.

"Boy problems," Rory answered. Jess and Tristan groaned and Paris shot them a shut-the-hell-up look. Rory turned back to Lane. "Where did Henry want to take you?"

"A new club in Hartford," Lane replied, sniffling. "The…the name of some planet."

"Mercury?" Tristan offered and Lane nodded. "A great club. Serves people eighteen and above. Posh, trendy…expensive."

The Korean girl groaned and buried her face in her hands. "My mother will never say yes."

"Jess and I are going there tomorrow," Paris offered finally. "We could make it and double date and you can say that you're going out with friends."

"She'd ask which friends and she doesn't know you," Lane answered with a rueful smile. "Which means she doesn't trust you. And she despises Jess."

"Well then Rory can come too," Paris said logically. Everyone shot Paris a surprised look and she merely shrugged. "It was a suggestion, not the end of the world."

Lane looked hopeful. "Ror?"

_So this is what they mean when they say you're stuck between a rock and a hard place, _Rory thought in her head and looked back at her expectant friend. _I so do not want to be the third wheel. Well, technically, the fifth. _"Lane, I don't know. What am I going to do when the four of you decide to dance or break off into couples?" 

"I'll keep you company," Tristan said finally and Rory's gaze swung to him. He was smirking again but the look in his eyes meant that he was serious. Rory's heart fluttered at the prospect of being Tristan's date. "We can be the fifth and sixth wheel."

"Oh," Rory said trying to hide the disappointment in her voice. Tristan DuGrey did not want to date her. He thought of her as nothing more than a challenge and once he conquered it, he would throw her away. Pushing those thoughts out of her head she looked at Lane. She was going to hate herself but her friend needed her. "Okay, if your mom trusts me than I'll be your partner in crime. Again."

Lane squealed and hugged Rory. "Thank you, thank you, thank you! You are the best friend anyone could have, you know that right?"

"Nope but you can make me a plaque or a banner with that on it and it would look great in my room!" Rory teased as she hugged Lane back. Then she whispered in her ear. "If I suffer with Tristan, I'm going to make you pay."

"It's a risk I'm willing to take," Lane whispered back and then pulled out of her embrace. "I left something in your room the other night, mind if get it?"

"Not at all," Rory answered. Lane let and Paris and Jess wandered into the backyard. Suddenly, the kitchen seemed smaller than she remembered and her eyes darted around, looking at everything but the blond Adonis standing near her fridge, studying her intently again. "You're doing it, again."

"I can't help it," he answered with a shrug. The phone rang, cutting off her remark and she answered it, looking warily at Tristan. 

"Hello?"

"Hey kid," Lorelai said perkily. "I called to let you know that I won't be home tonight. I'm at Luke's and you know what that means, right?"

"Yes," Rory answered with a sigh. 

"Is Jess there? Tell him he can't come home. He can spend the night there, if he wants. Well he could but he wouldn't like what he would see or hear or - "

"Mom!" Rory said. "I got it."

"Be a good girl and don't burn down my house. Oh and order a pizza or something. There's money in my room. Love you."

"Love you too, Mom," Rory said and hung up. When she turned around, Tristan was gone. Frowning slightly, she followed the voices into the living room and she saw Paris putting all of her stuff away. "You're leaving?" 

"Yeah, I have to get home," Paris answered. She slung her backpack over her shoulder and looked at Jess and then Rory. "What about you, Tristan?"

"I have plans, I should get going," he answered with a nod and pocketed his hands n his jeans. "So we have everything set for Monday?" Rory nodded. "Then, we're set."

"Right," Paris said. After a few minutes of awkward staring, the group headed for the door. The blond girl looked at Rory and offered a small smile. "Well, I'll see you tomorrow."

"How about you come over and you can get ready here," Rory suggested. "I mean if you want to."

Paris nodded again. "I'll walk you to your car," Jess said and guided Paris out of the house, a hand on her shoulder. "I'll be back in a second Ror and we'll get a pizza."

When they were gone, Tristan smiled at her. "You two dated."

"How can you tell?"

"He doesn't look like the kind of person to pass up an opportunity to date you," he replied as he took a step closer. "He'd be crazy not to."

"You two are a lot alike," Rory said as if she'd just figured it out. "That's odd."

"Louis, I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship," he answered with smoothly and then broke out into a grin.

Rory couldn't help but smile back as the memory returned to her. "You saw Casablanca."

"It was a good movie," he returned. They stared at each other for another awkward moment and he then cleared his throat. "Well, I'll see you tomorrow. At the club."

"Yes," she confirmed. "At the club."

He nodded and abruptly turned his heel and left her standing in the doorway to watch his retreating back. As he got into his car, she sighed and leaned against the doorframe. Tristan DuGrey was definitely bad for her health. 

_A/N: I adore feedback. It is my rasion d'etre, so to speak. _


	10. Chapter 10: Mercury Rising

_Hey everyone, well here is the next chapter. I had issues with my computer so I couldn't post sooner. Thanks for the feedback on Chapter 9. Oh and I kinda fixed a little bit of Chapter 6 (The Trory conversation in the end) it's nothing big but it changes a few things. You might not even notice the difference._

_Princess Ruby thanks for noting my typo. You'd think with seven years of French I'd be able to catch that. Roxy, "raison d'etre" means reason to be if I am not mistaken. So there you go. _

_On to the chapter!_

Chapter 10: Mercury Rising

"It's not a date!" Rory informed her mother the next night. Lorelai sat on the bed, amid the piles of clothes and eyed her daughter reproachfully. "He didn't ask me out, Mom. He just said that he'd be there to keep me company. Therefore, it is not a date."

Lorelai scrunched her nose as Rory held up a black vest against her navy blue dress. "But this is the same devil child that declared that he wanted you. That he was going to pursue you. Why would he pass up an opportunity to ask you out?" 

"I don't know," Rory said with a shrug. "Tristan is so complicated. One minute he's friendly and I feel like we're making progress but then he returns to his evil ways and messes with my head. I feel like I am on a roller coaster when I am around him. With Dean, everything was easier. I always knew where I stood with him."

"Well not all boys can be narcoleptic now can they?" Lorelai asked. Rory shot her Mom a warning look. Her mother backed off with a surrender gesture. "What I mean is that relationships get harder and messier when you grow up. Things with Dean were simple on some levels but hard on others but he was your first love. And love is hard and complicated and you just have to feel your way through."

Rory nodded. "You're right. Besides, Tristan doesn't want serious. He wants to prove something and I'll just have to fight him until he gives up or I give up. Whatever comes first, right?"

"That sounds like a plan," Lorelai said and handed her daughter a pair of pumps. 

"Paris, hold still!" Lane yelled. Lorelai looked at Rory amused and the two headed for the bathroom to help the other two girls out.  

Fifteen minutes later, Rory and Lane were in Lorelai's Jeep, following Paris and Jess in the formers' Mustang. Lane nervously fidgeted with the radio as soon as they pulled out of Stars' Hollow and Rory was going from amused to irate very quickly. "Would you choose a station already?"

"I'm nervous," Lane admitted as she folded her hand across her lap after leaving the radio on a soft rock station. "I don't even know if this is something I want. I mean it was over – Henry and I went our separate ways…now all of a sudden he's back and it's like we were never apart."

"Boy do I know what that feels like," Rory said her hands firmly on the steering wheel. "If it weren't for you, I wouldn't be on a non-date with Tristan."

"What are you talking about? This totally a date-date with Tristan."

"Technically, it isn't." Rory replied. "We were cornered. I don't know what's worse – to be alone while you and Henry and Paris and Jess make googly eyes at each other or to have Tristan to bicker with until one of us finally gives up and - "

"Admits burning desire for the other?" Lane piped up mischievously. Rory shot her a pointed, annoyed look before returning her gaze to the road. "Come one, Ror you can't tell me that you don't want to be with a guy who obviously adores you."

Rory sighed. "I don't want to get into this Lane. With Tristan things are never simple."

"If it's not complicated, it's not love," Lane offered and then let out a sigh of her own. "Okay, I won't rag you about this. Just try to have fun with Tristan and maybe the two of you can start again. Like civil people."

_That would be nice,_ Rory thought to herself. _Maybe we can be civil to each other if we really wanted to try. It can't be that hard. _Satisfied with her resolve, Rory smiled and decided to follow her mother's advice and take things as they came. 

After passing a series of exits, they finally left the highway behind and entered mainstream Hartford. Five minutes later, Paris pulled into up to the curve in front of what looked like an abandoned warehouse – except for the fact that it wasn't at all abandoned and music was blaring loudly from the inside. The word "Mercury" was splattered over the door in impressive colors and despite its laid back atmosphere, there was a valet service waiting to take the cars to a nearby parking deck.

"Classy," Lane stated as the foursome stood outside, waiting for the other two members of the group to arrive. "I like."

"I have to agree with Kim," Jess stated pocketing his hand in his jeans.

Rory looked at Paris who seemed mildly interested in the place and then nodded to her best friend. "It's unanimous."

"What is?" Henry asked as he appeared behind Lane and Rory. The formers' eyes widened in surprise and in her excitement, she impulsively wrapped her arms around her ex-beau and grappled him to her. Jess rolled his eyes and Henry laughed. "Hey Lane."

The group exchanged pleasantries and then decided to wait for Tristan inside. They quickly entered the club, asking the mean-looking man at the door to let their friend know that they were waiting for him inside. Indoors, dance mixes were blaring at an unbelievably high volume and Rory found it hard to listen to her thoughts, let alone the two couples who were seated at the table with her. Appetizers and drinks were bought and everyone dug in.

To confirm her earlier fears of abandonment, Jess and Henry asked their respective dates to dance. Rory watched as her so-called friends nodded eagerly and were led away, without a backward glance in her direction. _Well this is just…great, _she thought wryly and picked at the tortilla chips that were placed on the table in front of her. _At least I have my comfort food. _

"Hello beautiful," a low, husky and all too familiar voice whispered in her ear. She suppressed the shudder that was running through her just as Tristan took a seat beside her. She took in his ensemble, which was comprised of jeans and a blue sweatshirt. His hair was as always a tousled mess and his eyes seemed bluer juxtaposed against his sweater. "Miss me?"

"Terribly," Rory deadpanned. She looked away from him and played with the tortillas again. "But it's not like you to be on time, anyway."

"Well I am not one to disappoint," he answered taking a deliberate sip from her soda. "I made it didn't I? Now I can save you from a night of loneliness."

Her eyes flew to his. "Is that why you came tonight? To keep me company?"

"Why else?" He looked genuinely confused.  Rory furrowed her brow, hating him for playing mind games again. She couldn't figure him out and she was getting tired of trying. Tristan's attention was fixed to the dance floor as she studied his profile, trying to asses whether he really wanted to be there or not. "You wanna dance?"

"What?" she asked snapping out of her thoughts. He gestured towards the dance floor, his smirk reappearing as he caught her blushing. She shifted in her seat uncomfortably and shook her head vehemently. "Oh…no."

He sighed, as if defeated. "Why not?"

"Because no good can come out of it," she answered and took a sip of her drink. He placed a hand on hers and tugged her off her chair. "What are you doing?"

"Come on," he said easily and led her to the dance floor. "I don't bite. I promise." When they were standing in the middle of all the dancing couples, she stood facing him, her arms crossed firmly over her chest and a defiant expression in her eyes. He merely smiled and slipped an arm around her waist. She took a step back and he took another step closer, his amusement in his eyes and his patent grin plastered across his face. Rory rolled her eyes and unwillingly gave in, let her arms drape loosely around his shoulder. "I knew you'd give in to me, eventually, Mary. You just have to stop fighting it." 

"This is ridiculous. And you're evil." Rory retorted, looking disdainfully into his eyes.

"I am the spawn of Satan after all," he returned evenly. "It's what I do."

In spite of herself, she smiled over his shoulder and relaxed in his embrace. She had complained to anyone who would listen that she didn't want to be alone while her friends danced with their dates and now when she was on the dance floor too, she was still complaining. _So what if it's Tristan? All we're doing is dancing. _With her resolve firmly in place, she sighed and listened to the words of the sappy song.

_If I had castles built on high,_

_I'd find a millions ways to _

_Write your name against the sky,_

_Just to let you know you've caught my eye_

_And if I had more than wealth could buy, _

_I'd sell it all and start again_

_For just a chance with you,_

_Girl I'd give my all to win your love._

Suddenly, she was very much aware of the feel of Tristan's strong body against hers, his hands splayed between her shoulder blades and the small of her back, his face in her hair and the rhythmic beating of his heart against hers.

Tristan knew how to dance.

He was smooth, gentle, easily swaying to the music and pressing himself against her with the just the right amount of pressure so that Rory wished that a fast song would play so she wouldn't have to endure the torture.

She needed to focus on something else. Unconsciously, her ears returned to picking up the words to the song.

_And I would be rich,_

_And I would build all my world around you,_

_Just to show you,_

_How you take my breath away._

_And you would find love, sweet lady_

_Nobody else this side of heaven, knows_

_How you take my breath away._

Tristan pressed her closer and she had no choice but to rest her head on his chest.

Yeah, they were just dancing.

_Feedback is greatly appreciated!_


	11. Chapter 11: Appearance

Author's ramblings: Hey guys, so you probably thought that you would never see the next part of this fic, right? Well I do have a confession to make. I am kinda losing my Tristan/Rory vibe. With all the Jess/Rory-ness on the show…I can't help it. I love Tristan and Rory but let's face it CMM isn't coming back (at least not this season) and Jess is way better than Dean. I digress. So here's the new installment. Kinda transitional but I figured you needed one of those to get the story progressing.

I'll shut up now.

Chapter 11: Appearance 

Rory Gilmore was in his arms.

Tristan wished he could stay like this forever. Well not like this, because dancing with her in a club full of people wasn't exactly his idea of forever bliss, but minus a couple of hundred of hormone driven teenagers, their mutual so-called friends and the stupid, sappy 98 degrees song that was playing in the background, and he would be a happy man.

But he wasn't one to look a gift horse in the mouth.

Holding Rory was a feeling he wanted to relish in. He wasn't so confident about how many more opportunities like this one would arise although he had been as cocky as hell when he declared that he was going to pursue her. She felt so good, smelled so sweet and he wished that he could show her someway that he wasn't as bad or pathetic as she thought he was. But staying true to his modus operandi, he had irked her by being so blunt about getting her. He was sure that any chance that they had of becoming friends was slowly fading. 

But it wasn't what he wanted. He couldn't be her friend.

"Tristan?" she asked softly and he glanced down at her head resting on his shoulder. Leave it to her to ruin the perfection of the comfortable, non-sparring silence that had endured. "Where were you?"

"Where was I when?" he murmured into her strawberry smelling hair. She shivered ever so slightly and his mouth tugged into a half-smile. He loved making her react to him – or anything he said or did, like that. 

She sighed dramatically and he wagered that part of the reason was because she was annoyed with herself rather than him. His half-smile grew into full one of warped pleasure. "Do you always answer a question with a question?"

"Do you?" he teased lightly and pressed her closer.

Her head shot up and she purposely pulled away, her eyes locking with his. "Is it impossible to have a normal, civilized conversation with you? I'd really like to know because I don't want to waste my time."

"Fine," he said trying very had not to laugh at her annoyed, yet cute expression. He cocked an eyebrow and tried to look serious. "What was the question again?"

"Hopeless," Rory muttered shaking her head and then unconsciously returning her head to his shoulder, much to his satisfaction. "Talking to you like a normal human being is just completely and utterly useless. I don't know why I tried. I must be masochistic."

A sexually laced barb was about to come out of his mouth but he thought better of it and let out a theatrical sigh of his own. " Do you wanna know where I was before I came here or before I came back to Chilton?"

"The latter."

"Los Angeles."

"Oh," she said and then after a long pause in which the disk jockey decided to play another slow song she continued with her curiosity. "Why LA? Did you really have to travel across the country to get away from here?"

"Yeah, I did," he answered awkwardly not wanting to elaborate. "Needed to get away from a lot of people, a lot of stupid things. No big deal. LA just seemed like a nice choice."

"Did you like it there?" 

Her eyes were connected with his again. Sincerity and truthfulness stared at him and he was compelled to drop his defenses and his act. He wanted to tell her about the last year of his life, about the changes he felt inside him and about how coffee and books always reminded him of her, even when she was miles away. "Yeah, I really did."

"I'm glad," she answered with a hint of a smile. Then to change the pace back into their normal repartee, she rolled her eyes and looked at him disdainfully. "Too bad the great experience did nothing for you but enhance your tan."

Tristan ignored the urge to tell her that he had changed. That he'd grown up. Instead, he smirked and let his gaze drop to her lips. "Why Mary, I didn't know you noticed my tan. If you'd like a better view  - I think it could be arranged."

"And Bible Boy pulls back into the lead," Rory snapped dryly, just as the song ended. Much to Tristan's displeasure she pulled out of his arms and hitched her head in the direction of their table. "Let's head back. I'm sure they're wondering where we are."

"I'm sure they're not," Tristan replied as he followed her back. "Henry is probably already ogling over your friend and I bet that Jess is still on the dance floor with Paris. For the life of me, that is something I will never understand."

"Jess is a good guy," Rory defended instantly.

"I was talking about Paris," Tristan replied with a grin. She smiled back – the small, half smile that made his pulse race and his blood roar in his ears. A smile of comfortable friendship, of a shared joke between two people who got along – a smile that made him wish things were different between them. "Jess just doesn't seem like her type."

"Does she even have a type?"

"Who?" Lane asked as the pair neared the table. Henry was sipping from his soda and she was munching away on French fries. Tristan and Rory took their seats.

"Paris."

The group fell silent. 

"What about her?" The blonde in question asked as she sat down across from Rory, Jess in tow.

"The city," Rory answered quickly. "We were talking about the city." The other three people in the conversation nodded enthusiastically. Rory grabbed Lane's fries and bit into one contemplatively. "Have you been there?"

"Twice," Paris answered suspiciously. 

Much to Tristan's amusement, Rory geared Paris into a detailed conversation about the famous French city. The brunette's eyes were wide with wonder as the other girl described the sights of the city and the people that occupied it. That led to a discussion of other people in other countries and customs. Somehow, the small group ended up talking about the upcoming festival in Star's Hollow.

"Excuse me," Lane said all of a sudden as she pushed off her chair. "I'll be right back. Ladies' room."

"I'll go with," Rory said. "Paris?"

"Why not?" the other girl said. 

The three were gone in a second, leaving their respective dates to stare at the dance floor, the food on the table and the other people in the noisy club.

"So…" Jess started.

"Yeah," Henry shot back, bored.

Tristan leaned back against his chair and then arched an eyebrow. "Wanna get some beer?"

"How?" the other Chiltonite asked showing mild interest.

"Old man has connections here," Tristan replied realizing that he hadn't used his father's name to get him something in a long time. He had to admit that it still felt good. "You guys game?"

"Hell yeah." Came Jess' reply.

Henry looked reflective and then sighed. "Let's go."

~*~ ~*~ ~*~ 

"So 98 degrees?" Lane asked as Rory watched her check her reflection in the mirror. "And with Tristan?"

Rory rolled her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest. "It was just a song and he's just a guy. And the song was kind of…nice."

Lane flinched. "Rory, those teachers at Chilton are frying your brain."

Paris came out of a nearby stall and glanced at her reflection in the mirror – something that amused Rory very much. "What?"

"You're checking your make-up," Rory explained. "First of all, that's more than the make-up you ever wear and secondly…I didn't even know if you knew what a mirror was. Seriously Paris, what is going on?"

"Nothing is going on," she answered dryly. "Have you seen all the girls our age out there? They're dressed like they're thirty."

"And you think Jess will realize…what exactly?" Lane asked curiously, her brows knitting together.

"That he's wasting his time," Paris replied shortly. "You know I'm not a man-magnet. God, I can't even form a coherent sentence and if I do, I'm either talking about the Spanish Inquisition or the War of 1812. I just have to face it; Jess is not calling me again. Ever."

"He likes you." Rory swallowed guiltily as she tried to reassure Paris._ And he wants to see if he can get you to bed, _she added silently to herself. Glancing at a nervous Paris, Rory suddenly had the tremendous urge to slap Jess across the face. Or Tristan. Preferably both. _They're pigs. All of them are. _"Trust me."

"He is so into you," Lane agreed with a nod. "Come on, let's not keep them waiting too long. Besides, I promise my mother I'd be home before midnight. I have to get in as much as Henry-time as I can."

The girls exited the bathroom and as they started to walk back towards their table, Rory caught sight of a familiar dark-haired woman and a flannel-clad man beside her. Her eyes widened in surprise and her feet moved towards the people she knew. Lane and Paris followed asking her what was wrong. As she halted behind the couple, she put her hands on her hips. "Mom! Luke! What are you doing here?"

The two turned, gasped and immediately looked shame-faced. Lorelai smiled brightly and then put on a shocked expression. "Rory! Well fancy meeting you here! Luke and I were just driving by and we saw this joint and he asked if I wanted to go in and I said 'Sure, why not? It seems like the place to be.' What are you doing here?"

"Mom!" Rory stated, looking at her disapproving.

"They're here to check up on us," Jess cut in as he appeared from behind his uncle. "Hey Uncle Luke. Did you know I was there buying beer?"

"What?" Luke asked surprised.

Jess shook his head and then looked at the girls apologetically. "I'm sure my uncle here insisted that they come to check up on us. Lorelai was just an accomplice."

"Yes, yes, accomplice!" Lorelai agreed eagerly and nodded. "That sounds less incriminating than what I had in mind. We were just making sure this place was you know…cool. Safe for our kids."

"It is!" Rory answered. "I told you it would be!"

"I know babe, but Captain Backwards Cap here didn't believe you. Or Jess. He's the villain. I'm just the helpless sidekick." Lorelai explained.

Everyone turned to the man in flannel. He lowered his eyes, then shrugged and mumbled. "I guess it's ok. We can go. Sorry."

Once the grown-ups were gone, the other returned to their table. On the way back, Rory saw Tristan near the bar, leaning against the counter a smile on his face. She shifted to see who he was talking to and her eyes narrowed suspiciously when they fell on a curvaceous blond clad in a skin-tight jungle green dress. Her hand was on his forearm and she was practically thrusting her chest in his face. Steeling her nerves and curling her fist she shook her head and maintained an outward appearance of calm. 

She wasn't the least bit jealous of the Slutty Blond.

~*~

Oh and the song from the last chapter was "Take My Breath Away" by 98 Degrees if you haven't guessed by now.


	12. Chapter 12: Sweetness and Sarcasm

_Disclaimer: There is a line in here about "sweetness and sarcasm" that is adapted from Dawson's creek._ _A/N: Hey guys! I think I forgot to mention in the last chapter that this is still a Tristan/ Rory fic. I couldn't write and R/J fic even if I wanted to. So please, Trory fans, keep reading. This one is full of T/R goodness!_ Chapter 12: Sweetness and Sarcasm 

"You're not leaving me here with him!" Rory stated wide-eyed as she stared at the brunette and dirty blond in front of her. "I won't allow it. Absolutely not!"

"Ror," Lane said, her eyes shining with desperation. "I really want to be alone with Henry. And this club is way too crowded for that. He said he'd drive me home. I even plan on having him drop me off a few blocks away. I feel like I have reconnected with him again."

"Oh so you have no use for me now, right?" Rory said, crossing her arms over her chest. She looked over Lane's shoulder at the two guys who were anxiously waiting to get out of the club and have a make-out session with their respective dates. She sighed realizing that she was being impossible. "Fine, go ahead. Leave me alone with my worst enemy."

"You're the best!" Lane squealed, hugged her and then ran back to the table to fetch Henry.

Paris gave the brunette a semi-smile. "Thanks. You'll make it home alright?"

"If I don't kill myself," she muttered and uncrossed her arms. She looked at Jess, then at Paris and lowered her voice conspiratorially. "Listen, Jess is a good guy. But he's also kind of…experienced. And he may want you to do things - "

"Rory," Paris cut her off. "I'll be fine. I'm a big girl. Besides, I would never…you know."

"I know," Rory replied with a firm nod. "Just wanted to make sure."

As she watched Paris and Jess leave the club, right behind Henry and Lane, she suddenly felt like she needed to get out of there as soon as possible. She closed her eyes, took in a deep breath and when she opened them again, her eyes connected with Tristan's perpetually amused ones. He sauntered over to her from his place at the table and stopped in front of her. "We have a problem."

"No, I have a problem and it's standing right in front of me."

Tristan rolled his eyes. "I'm serious."

"So am I."

"I don't have a car," he stated and pocketed his hands in his jeans.

"Yo don't have a car?" she asked, her eyes narrowing suspiciously. He nodded. "Tristan DuGrey doesn't have a car? The world is made of green cheese - I could consider that. The sun revolves around the Earth - that's comprehensible. Tristan DuGrey doesn't have a car? Excuse me if I find that a little hard to believe. What's really going on?"

"Your utter lack of trust in me wounds me dearly, sweet Mary," he said with his patented smile. "But I seriously do not have a car to take me back home. My car is in repairs and I had my Dad's chauffer drop me off. I didn't want to disappoint you by not showing up."

"You didn't have to do me any favors," Rory muttered and then sighed. "Well, call your Dad and ask him to send Jeeves to fetch you."

"Jeeves has the night off," he replied smoothly. "My only hope is you."

"This night cannot get any worse," she sighed, then nodded slowly and then headed for the exit. "Come on, I'll take you home Bible Boy."

"How can I be Bible Boy and the Spawn of Satan at the same time?" he asked as they waited for the valet to bring Rory's car around.

She scrunched her nose and looked at him. "I don't know. You're a very confusing person, Tristan. I never know what to expect from you. You drive me crazy."

His eyes turned intense – sapphire blue, and a corner of his mouth twitched with amusement. He leaned closer, so close that she could feel his warm breath on her face, and a series of delicious tingles ran up her spine as she unconsciously looked up at him through her eyelashes, in a coy yet provocative gesture. His voice caused the tingles to intensify and butterflies to take over her stomach, as it came out in that husky, rich murmur. "Do I really?"

Her breathing hitched as her eyes dropped to his lips on their own. "Absolutely."

Then he pulled back and grinned, all traces of intensity vanished. With one hand he gestured toward her mother's Jeep as it pulled up to the curb and raised an eyebrow. "That's the plan, Mary. To drive you crazy."

His words could have been interpreted by her dazed mind in several different ways but when she coupled them with smooth, flippant, trademark DuGrey voice, she knew that they were only meant as a teasing barb; something to get her irked. Opting to ignore him, she brushed past him, accepted the keys from the valet and slid into the driver's seat of her mother's Jeep. Tristan had barely buckled up and Rory pressed the accelerator and making him shift uncontrollably in his seat. She threw him a sweet smile. "I'm sorry, I didn't realize I was driving so fast."

"Funny girl," he muttered as he adjusted himself on the seat, sprawling across it luxuriously and folding his hands behind his head. He sighed as his head hit the headrest. "This is a comfortable car."

"Wow, you think so, huh? And it isn't even a Mercedes."

"Could you cut the sarcasm, Mary?" he said giving her a withering glare. She didn't reply and then she felt him studying her profile. Glancing at him uncomfortably, she gave him the ageless "what?" look. He smirked. "Why is it that you get so flustered and uncomfortable when I look at you. Do I make you nervous, Rory?" 

Rory rolled her eyes as she zipped past unfamiliar Hartford streets. "Not this again. And are you going to give me directions here?"

"Take the next exit," he said, hitching his head towards the road. "You know, I don't do it to make you uncomfortable. I just like looking."

A deep blush rose to her cheeks and she was grateful that it was too dark for him to see. She shook her head slightly and tried to make her voice sound strong and clear. "It doesn't bug me. I just like to know what you're thinking when you do stare."

He let out a chuckle. "Believe me, you don't want to know."

Her eyes widened and her mind tried to make sense of his words yet again. When the implication set in, she couldn't help but smile although her heart was hammering against her ribcage. "Is that all you ever think about, DuGrey?"

She pulled off the highway as he directed and he laughed. "When I'm around you, yes."

Again, she blushed. What was wrong with her? Why wasn't she repulse or even uncomfortable knowing that Tristan thought of her in a sexual way? Why in the world was she flattered? Shaking her head again, as if to clear her thoughts, she decided to stick with their normal banter. "You're sick, you know that?"

"Yeah," he answered genuinely. "I know." He started to open compartments and look around the dashboard. "Rory, do you know that there are no CDs in this car? What in the world do you listen to?"

"It's called the radio," she shot back. "Besides, this Jeep is Mom's. And there is a CD in there. Just look harder."

After scattering a few things in the glove compartment, he produced said CD and examined it. When she glanced at him, he cocked an eyebrow and smirked again. "Barry Manilow?"

"Yeah," Rory giggled.

"_Looks like we made it_," he sang completely off tune.

"That's what I said," she replied. "Only I sang it much better."

After a moment, he stared at her again. "I could do this, you know."

"What?"

"This repartee. The sarcasm sprinkled with a little sweetness here and there."

She looked at him and smiled at him, her pulse quickening as he smiled back in the dim light. "Yeah, so could I."

~*~ ~*~ ~*~

Tristan undid his seatbelt as Rory pulled up to the door of his house. He turned to her and grinned. "Aren't you going to walk me to the door?"

"How very chivalrous of you," she spat and then rolled her eyes. She undid her own seatbelt and accompanied him to the door. When he turned to her expectantly she merely smiled back. "Well, goodnight."

"What, no kiss?" he said leaning into her, his smirk in place.

She took a step away. "In your dreams."

"Every night," he murmured with a smile. Her eyes widened and his smile grew bigger - satisfied with the effect. Then, he grabbed her hand and pulled her inside the mansion. She was going to open her mouth to protest but he cut her off. "I'm going to give you the fifty cent tour. You left so early the night of the party."

"I don't like your house," she replied as he led her through the massive foyer. He stopped abruptly and turned to face her, agape. She shrugged. "Not my style at all."

"Well, never tell my mother that," he returned easily. "She takes great pride in this house. She loves it more than she loves me." He frowned for a second. "Actually, be sure to tell her. I like to see her cringe."

Without waiting to see Rory's expression or to hear her response, he quickly led her through the house never letting her hand go in fear that she might run away. Soon, she relaxed and followed him, looking around with mild interest. She was so deep in though about something that she didn't even realize that he was leading her up the stairs. When they got to the door of his bedroom, her eyes grew wide again. "Where are we going?"

"My room," he replied smoothly, knowing she was going to freak. He kind of wanted to see her expression to his suggestion. When her eyes narrowed dangerously, he merely grinned. He knew her reactions all too well. "I promise I'll be a perfect gentleman. If I am not, I give you permission to kick me."

"How gracious of you," she spat and then followed him into his room. Her eyes quickly scanned his mahogany desk, the large bay windows and the heavy navy blue drapes, his trophy shelf and lastly his bed. "Very…strange."

"Why?" 

"I expected it to be a mess," she answered truthfully as she crossed her arms over her chest. "This doesn't mesh with the opinion I have of you and your character. Now, I'm going to have to re-evaluate it. I'm beginning to think you're bipolar, Tristan."

He took a minute to relish in the way she said his name and then just smiled. "Well, this is usually where the tour comes to an end. Well not exactly this spot. More over to that region." He gestured towards his bed and smirked as she rolled her eyes again. "I was kidding."

"Yeah, right." Then her eyes landed on something over his shoulder and she brushed past him and walked over to his desk. She sifted through some of his books that were neatly lined against the wall. "Books? You have books?"

"Don't worry, they're just required reading. I don't actually like them," he assured her and walked over. He ran his fingers over the cover of _Crime and Punishment_ that lay on the table. "This one is a real drag."

"It can be tough," she answered with a nod. "I'm impressed you know how to read at all."

"Aren't you the quippy one tonight?" he laughed and looked down at her. Her blue eyes met his, amusement twinkling in them. Then, she turned to him ever so slowly, and he felt his heart hammer against his ribcage again. She looked like she did the night at Madeline's party over a year ago, the night he had kissed her and felt something more for her for the first time. His gaze dropped to her lips and his pulse quickened when she ran her tongue over her lips in an unconsciously inviting gesture.

Her eyes searched his and she looked like she was going to take a step back. Quickly preventing that by taking a step closer, he brought his index finger to her chin and lightly pushed it upwards to meet his descending mouth. Her breathing hitched and then his lips brushed hers. His other arm snaked around her waist and he pulled her to her, causing their bodies to collide and his senses to go into overdrive.

She moaned and he felt like he was in heaven as he too the opportunity to hitch the kiss up one notch. She responded eagerly and the blood leapt in his veins and course through him at an exhilarating speed. Her tiny hands grasped his shirt and his tangled in her hair. Their tongues dueled and explored and all Tristan could hear was the sound of his blood pounding in his ears.

Then they broke apart, breathless.

Her eyes fluttered open and immediately went wide. Her breathing ragged, she stared at him and he knew what she was going to do. He reached out for her hand before she could take it away. "Rory, don't run."

"I have to go. I jus - "

"Yeah, just don't run, okay?" he acknowledged. "I didn't plan that. I'm sorry I went back on my promise to be a gentleman. Just don't run away from me like last time." 

She nodded slowly, still looking flushed from the kiss. He wanted to pull her back into his arms again but he knew she needed to leave. Before they did something he would hate himself in the morning for. "Okay. Walk me to the door?"

He smiled slowly and nodded. In an uncomfortable silence, they went downstairs and he opened the front door for her. He wanted to say something but refrained. Finally, he settled on something simple. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight, Tristan." she answered and met his eyes. She searched his face again, in the strange way of hers. "I don't hate you."

He nodded slowly, his mind a daze. "I know, Mary."

"Bye."

"Yeah, bye." She walked to her Jeep and he closed the door. Then, he leaned against it and banged his head on it for being a complete idiot.


	13. Chapter 13: Things Change

Hey all! So here's the next chapter. Thank you for your wonderful feedback on the last chapter. Means a lot.

Chapter 13: Things Change

Rory closed her eyes and sighed as soft lips peppered kisses on the column of her neck. Her hands roamed over his back, fingers skimming over the well-defined muscles. He groaned against her skin, murmuring her name.  His hands wandered to the hem of her shirt and slipped under. She arched into him as his hands roamed up her stomach and his lips continued to torture her extra-sensitive neck. She let out a pleased moan. "God, you feel so good."

"You taste so good," he replied huskily as he lifted his head and stared into her deep blue eyes. She smiled at him and raised her arms above her head. His blue eyes twinkled with wickedness and he quickly grabbed the end of her shirt and pulled it over her head. Falling back on the pillow, Rory grabbed his head again and brought his lips to hers. He whimpered as she let her tongue slip into his soft, hot, sweet mouth. His hands trailed up her body and his fingers slipped under the thin material of her bra. Rory hissed in pleasure and arched into him. His ministrations were sending aching bolts of electricity to her core. She kissed him feverishly. He laughed into her mouth, causing her to shudder deliciously. "Rory."

She smiled against his lips. "Hmm?"

"Rory!"

She frowned, her eyes still closed as he kept calling her and kissing her. "Yes?"

"Wake up!"

"What?" she said suddenly, her eyes flying open. She looked around her room, sunlight streaming through the windows and her mother standing in her doorway a mug of coffee in her hand and a suspicious look on her face. Rory flushed red as she sat up in her bed. "Mom! What time is it?"

"It's time for school, child of mine," Lorelai answered, tongue in cheek. With a mischievous smile, her mother walked over to her bed and sat down on the edge. "Of course, that dream must be even more important. And by the looks of it, you were having a very interesting dream. Who was the boy?"

_Just a dream…it was just a dream_. She didn't know if she was relieved or disappointed. Rory's fuddled mind suddenly registered her mother's words and her eyes flew open, a fresh shade of red spreading over her cheeks. She averted her eyes from her mother's amused gaze and scrambled out of her bed. "I'm going to be late!"

"Not so fast kiddo," Lorelai stated and then smiled widely. "Is my innocent, angel child having wicked dreams about a certain boy? Oh I don't know…we'll call him Spristan." 

_Damn mother's intuition,_ Rory fumed silently as she rummaged through her drawers for underwear. On the outside she remained unperturbed, pretending to be annoyed with her mother. "Why don't I have any clean underwear?"

"It's in the bucket outside," Lorelai answered quickly. "You're avoiding the question and silence usually means that the answer to said question is in the form of a 'yes' or any other type of affirmation. Am I right?"

"Just delusional," Rory shot over her shoulder. She exited her room, Lorelai on her heels. "Mom, don't follow me into the bathroom."

"Daughter, don't avoid my question."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"You. Having wicked dreams. About wicked boys named Spristan," Lorelai declared with a huff as Rory walked into the bathroom. She reached for the door and glared at her mother before shutting it on her face. That didn't deter the insane woman. "Do you deny it?"

"Go away, Mom!"

"So you can dream about a certain boy in the shower? I think not!" Lorelai stated and then started to laugh. Rory glared at the door as she started to undress. She stepped into the shower and was assailed by the image of Tristan. Her mother laughed again. "I totally planted that idea in your head, didn't I?"

In response, Rory turned on the shower and stepped under it. She closed her eyes and tried to let the water rid her of the dream she had just had. Only, it wasn't working. As the warm water spilled over her body she couldn't help but think about Tristan's hands running over her heated flesh and his lips molding against hers just like they had in the dream. She cursed him in her head and made the water colder.

Twenty minutes later, after much needling and teasing from Lorelai, Rory had managed to get dressed and grab her breakfast, which consisted of a Pop Tart and a cup of coffee. Lorelai handed her the keys to the Jeep, saying that she would get Luke to take her to work. Balancing the steering wheel, her coffee cup and Pop Tart, Rory headed for the highway, hoping that she could make it to school on time. She took the exit to Hartford and was immediately engulfed in early morning traffic. Sighing, she finished the rest of her coffee at an intersection. 

With five minutes left for homeroom bell, Rory made it to Chilton, unscathed. Grabbing her book bag, she practically flew to her locker. Dumping unwanted stuff into it, she rushed down the almost deserted halls. The bell rung just before she got to her class, sighing she looked sheepishly at the teacher in front of the class. "Punctuality is a way of life here are Chilton, Miss Gilmore."

"Sorry," Rory mumbled as she trudged to her desk. Tristan was sitting in his place behind her an amused smirk on his face. Forgetting about her dream and focusing on the insufferable DuGrey behavior, she scowled and whispered. "Stop smiling."

Once she was seated, she felt him lean in closer. His fingers brushed the back of her neck, played with the cotton of her shirt and her eyes widened in surprise. Goose bumps broke out over her flesh as his voice run low in her ear. "Your collar was messed up, Mary."

Flushing pink, she pushed her chair closer to her desk as he chuckled. She looked over at Paris, trying to get the other girls' attention, but the dirty blond stared straight ahead, in concentration. _Concentration on what? _Rory thought with a frown. _The attendance? _She leaned forward and tried to get the other girl's attention_. _"Paris?" She didn't answer or even flinch. Rory's frown deepened. _Weird_. _But then again, it is Paris._

Still, she needed to find out what was wrong. She had a feeling Jess had something to do with it.

~*~ ~*~ ~*~ 

_This is just great_, Tristan thought to himself as he watched Rory unload her books in her locker at the end of the day. He had successfully kept his distance from her all day with the exception of the teasing remark he had thrown her way in the morning. That couldn't be helped because she looked so cute when she was flustered. _Stop it, DuGrey. You resolved to back off. Stop staring! _He sighed and ran a hand through his hair_. _Rory Gilmore was going to kill him, one day.

"Hey T-man," Michel Ashburn said as he clapped him on the back. Tristan turned from his locker to greet the other boy and his friend, Jack Hunter. "You've been MIA for awhile now. Haven't seen you on the babe scene in quite a while."

Jack leaned into the locker next to Tristan's and smirked. "That's because DuGrey is hung up on Rory Gilmore. Really, I admire your persistence. You're like one of those blown up clowns that keep standing up straight when you hit them."

"Well at least I have standards," Tristan scowled and then stared challengingly at the dark-haired boy in front of him. "At least I don't sleep with the first girl who would lie on her back for me."

Jack was unperturbed and merely stared back at Tristan evenly. "At least I don't go begging for scraps."

"At least I don't have to pay for sex," Tristan smirked as Jack scowled darkly and looked like he was going to punch Tristan.

"Boys, boys," Michael interrupted and stepped in between the two. "Why can't we just all get along? No need for blood shed over chicks, right?"

Tristan bit back a cruel remark and curled his fists at his sides to keep himself from pushing the smaller boy to the side and punching Jack's smug face. Michael raised his hands in a peace-offering gesture and Tristan nodded, stepping away. The two boys turned around and started down the hall, passing Rory's locker. Jack stopped behind her, started to reach for her rear end and looked over at Tristan, who was already advancing towards him menacingly. 

Just as he was about to yell at the other boy, Rory turned around. "Touch me and die."

Jack blinked in surprise and Tristan's frown turned into a smile. Jack took a step back and stammered. "I wasn't…I just - "

"Articulate," Rory observed and then crossed her arms over her chest. "Do you have anything intelligible to say? If not then please, be on your way."

Jack muttered something and then walked away, Michael following him after throwing an approving glance in the brunette's direction. Shaking his head in amusement, Tristan leaned against Paris' locker with a smirk on his face. "That was…intimidating."

Rory grinned. "I didn't have a worthy opponent. It was easy. Now if it were you, I know that you wouldn't have backed off even then. Masochist that you are."

Tristan pocketed his hands and watched her amused. "Yes, that I am. After all, how many times would a respectable guy let you break his heart after you run away after he kisses you?"

Rory's expression turned serious and she turned to him. "Tristan, about last night - "

He raised a hand to cut her off. "No, you don't have to say anything. I'm backing off. I promise."

"Backing off?" Rory asked confused.

"That declaration I made in this hallway the other day, it doesn't stand anymore," Tristan clarified as he pushed off the locker and stepped closer. "I promise, I won't harass you and I won't keep kissing you. I'll stay as far as I can from you."

"You will?" she asked uncertainly and then pulled her bottom lip between her teeth. He had to check the urge to cup her face and use his own lips to pull it back out from its prison.

He nodded and started to walk away. "See you around, Mary."

She stood there as he walked away, not moving or calling to him like he wanted her to and he realized that she was happy with his decision. Feeling disappointed and like a world-class heel, he quickly exited the Chilton and located his car in the parking lot. He opened the door and was about to slide in when a voice had him turning. "That was unfair."

He turned to Rory, surprised. "What was?"

"That declaration you made in there," she clarified. "Don't I get to decide whether or not I want you to hang around me? Don't I even get a little bit of say in that colossal decision you made to break off our friendship?"

Hope soared in Tristan's chest but then faltered when he realized what she was saying. "That's just it, Rory. I don't want to be your friend."

"You don't?" she asked, her voice wavering.

"No," he answered seriously. "I don't _just_ want to be your friend."

A small smile played across her lips and she nodded slowly. "So then ask me out."

To say he was shocked was an understatement. "What?"

"Or I'll ask you out," Rory replied as if she hadn't heard him. "Tristan, would you like to go out with me? You could come over tonight, and I could show you my town. Or we could something more interesting if you like. Like the movies. Or maybe just dinner…"

He smirked and stepped forward. "You're asking me out?"

"It is the twenty first century. Things change." 

"Okay."  
  


Rory smiled. "Seven, okay for you?"

"I might be a little late."

Rory clucked her tongue and then took a step away from. "Punctuality is way of life, Mr. DuGrey."

He laughed as she walked away from him and located her car. Shaking his head, he got into his car and turned the ignition. _DuGrey, this is you lucky day._


	14. Chapter 14: Jess, Tristan & Addictions

Hey all, I bet you didn't expect me to ever write this again, huh? Well sorry for the delay and thank you for the wonderful reviews. 

_Also, I have a question…in which episode of Gilmore Girls does Lorelai or Rory start calling Tristan The Evil One or Bible Boy? It's driving me nuts 'cause I can't remember!_

_Anyway, enjoy!_

Chapter 14: Jess, Tristan & Addictions 

"If you mark up that book with your ugly, tiny, stupid hand writing, I will personally hunt you down for the dog that you are. They'll be finding your body for weeks," Rory stated fiercely as she ran a comb through her hair and met Jess' amused gaze through her mirror. He was lying on her bed, her prized edition of _Emma _in his hands and a ballpoint pen stuck behind his ear.

"Whoa," he answered coolly. He placed her book carefully on the bed and then sat up, his legs dangling from the edge. "I always knew you had a dark side."

"And don't you forget it," she scolded as she pulled her hair into a ponytail. Eyeing herself critically she turned to Jess and raised an expectant eyebrow. When he didn't say anything, she let out an exasperated sigh. "Well? How do I look?"

"Okay, I guess," he replied with a shrug. She rolled her eyes and muttered under her breath. "What I don't get is why you're so worried about the way you look. You have a date with DuGrey. You could walk out in a garbage bag and he'd still look at you as if you hung the moon." Then he smirked. "Actually, I think he'd probably love for you to walk out in a garbage bad. Preferably those thin white ones."

Rory's eyes widened and then narrowed. "Pervert! Get out of my house!"

Jess laughed as she smacked him and pushed him out of her room. Once inside the kitchen, he headed straight for the fridge in hopes of finding something there. He groaned when he found it bare. "I don't know why I bother."

"Serves you right, delinquent." Rory pulled out the pot of coffee under the maker and poured herself a mug. She watched as Jess fumbled with the wrapper of a Pop Tart and tried to assess what he was thinking. They had spent the last hour together, watching TV and doing homework but he hadn't mentioned a word about the night before. Or Paris. "Hey Jess?"

"Hmm?" he asked biting into the pastry.

"How was last night?"

He was silent for a minute and he kept eating his Pop Tart but she knew that he understood what she meant. "It was good."

"That's good," Rory answered taking a sip. "You didn't say anything about it."

"Neither did you," he answered shortly and shrugged, indicating that he didn't think that there was anything to discuss. "I mean you left with DuGrey, didn't you? And you have a date with him tonight. Something must've happened."

"We're talking about you."

"Really? 'Cause I was pretty sure we were talking about you and DuGrey."

"Smartass," Rory chided and then sat down next to him at the kitchen table. "So are you going out with Paris, again?"

Jess finished his Pop Tart and glanced at his watch. "Would you look at the time? I really should get out of here. Your boyfriend is gonna be here any minute."

"What happened?" she asked with a small sigh. "Paris was acting really weird today and that's saying a lot because she always acts weird. So something must've happened. What did you do?"

"Why do you assume it was something I did?" Jess asked angrily as he walked towards the backdoor. "Maybe Paris is the one with the problem. Why don't you ask her? I'm sure she'll be real forthcoming. She'll just wanna tell you all about something that is none of your damn business."

Rory looked away hurt. "I'm sorry. You're - "

Jess sighed and then rubbed his temple. "No, Ror - I'm sorry. It's just that this isn't something I want to talk about. Not now, okay? I'll see you later."

She nodded as she watched him leave and then let out a sigh. There was something more to Jess and Paris than she suspected. Jess was not the type of person to spill his guts out to her or wear his heart on his sleeve but somewhere during the time the two of them had gone from being friends, to kissing occasionally and then being friends again, she knew Jess better than he did. He was a hard nut to crack but she was going to have to use patience with him to get to him. That was the only thing that ever worked.

The sound of the doorbell reverberated through the room and snapped her out of her Jess-centric thought process. Walking to the door, she shook her head and prepared to face yet another man in her life. When she opened the door, she found Tristan leaning against the frame, one hand in the pocket of his black jeans and a calm expression on his face. He grinned crookedly. "Mary."

She rolled her eyes and stepped aside to let him in. "Satan."

He chuckled as he brushed past her, the purely exciting mix of his soap and cologne making her heady enough to grab the door for support. Images from her dream came flooding back. Tristan's lips on hers, his hands touching and teasing her skin, her own hands tangled in his messy hair…she shook her head, reprimanded herself and closed the door quickly. When she turned, Tristan was looking at her contemplatively although his smirk was plastered across his face in a telltale sign of his amusement. "Something wrong?"

"No," she answered nervously then looked at him funny. "Why?"

"You looked like you were lost," he replied so softly that she had to take a step closer to him to hear him. Without realizing what she was doing, she tilted her head and he came closer to her as well, lowering his voice. "You looked like you were thinking of something…someone."

"Uh-huh," she answered off-handedly as she watched his lips in fascination.

Then, they stretched into a wide, familiarly cocky smile. "Me?"

She pursed her lips, narrowed her eyes and smacked him playfully on his chest. "You know, just when I think there's hope for you yet, you remind me that you are irrevocably screwed up and nothing short of a miracle will save you."

For an instant, Rory saw the walls drop around his heart as his eyes dropped to study the length of her body and then back up to her face, before finally resting on her own wide blue eyes. "Yeah, a miracle."

The stared at each other for a minute and it took Rory exactly .01 seconds to flush completely red. He smirked again because he had gotten the reaction he expected from her. She mentally chided herself for getting carried away and forced herself to smile sweetly and pretend nothing was wrong. "So my plans for tonight are pretty much open for definition. Although, I do recommend we do something that involves getting food and watching something specifically horrific. Other than that, it's up to you."

"So you asked me out but planned absolutely nothing?"

"Hey, I've never done this before," Rory protested as she led him into the living room. "There is only so much we can do in Stars Hollow, Tristan. And since you've obviously planned _so_ many dates before, why don't you decide?"

He glanced at the TV in the middle of the living room and noticed the stack of videocassettes piled beside it. He walked over and inspected them, looking for something that grabbed his attention. When he found it, he held it up for her to see. "Something horrific, you say? How about _There's Something About Mary_? Kind of fitting for us, wouldn't you think?"

A grin tugged at her mouth but she rolled her eyes at him for good measure. "You rewind the tape and I'll get popcorn. She turned her heel and headed for the kitchen, calling to him over her shoulder. "You don't mind the extra butter do you?"

"The more butter the better," he answered as he put the tape in as Rory popped a bag of popcorn into the microwave. She poured two sodas and placed them on a tray while she was waiting. The beeper went off, she grabbed a plastic bowl and poured out the contents and then balanced the tray back to the living room. Tristan was sitting on the sofa, sprawled like he owned the place, the remote control in his hands. "What took you so long?"

"Sorry Your Highness," Rory mumbled as she joined him on the couch, putting enough space between their bodies so he couldn't possibly trigger any memory of her dream sitting next to her. He turned the movie on and a comfortable silence, lapsed between them as they watched Cameron Diaz and Ben Stiller on the screen. Twenty-five minutes into the movie, she looked at him and finally broke the silence. "This movie is kinda pathetic, don't you think?"

"Not The Shawshank Redemption," he agreed and dug into the popcorn bowl. "Or ET."

Rory laughed as she munched on a kernel. "I can't picture you watching ET."

He looked at her, brow arched and amusement on his face. "Why not?"

"Because I can't picture you as a kid," she said matter-of-factly. _When I picture you, it's in my dreams with your shirt off and you lips on mine…No, don't go there!_

He turned to her fully, looking serious and amused at the same time. "I wasn't really much a great looking kid. Sloppy hair, taller than most kids, my grandfather says I was always in something whether it was mud, or the pool or the huge chocolate cake the cook had made for a dinner party in the evening…"

"But then you grew up and became the clean and debonair, right?" Rory teased although it surprised her that he was admitting that he wasn't always what he tried to be – the charming, cool, unaffected playboy of Hartford.

He laughed and leaned forward. "So what about you? I bet you were a stickler for the following the rules and being an angel."

She nodded slightly, glancing at Ben Stiller on the screen for a second before returning her gaze to him. She smiled and then leaned in conspiratorially.  "Pretty much. Although, there was this one time at my eighth birthday party where I sneaked into my mother's bedroom and hunted for my present beforehand. I knew that I was going to get before I got it…but acted surprised anyway."

Tristan grinned. "How daring. I am appalled, Rory Gilmore." 

She grinned back, her eyes searching his face and the movie forgotten. He kept gazing at her, as if he was looking at her for the first time and she couldn't help but stare back her eyes almost compellingly locked with his. Her gaze dropped to his lips again and unconsciously, she started to inch closer to him. He started to close the distance between their mouths when an alarm bell rang off in Rory's head. Her dream came rushing back and an alarm bell rang loudly in her head. She quickly tore her gaze away and reached for her soda. "I wonder why nothing good for you is ever addictive."

_Lame! _Rory chided as Tristan cleared his throat and turned to face the television set again. _Just pretend nothing was going to happen. Stay calm. _He looked at her oddly. "What do you mean?"

"I mean everything that's bad for you is addictive," she elaborated. "Like soda."

"Chocolate," he mused and took a sip of his drink.

"Cigarettes," she added and glanced at him. "Sex."

He looked at her surprised. "Sex? It's a normal human need how is it bad for you?"

"It can be," Rory clarified. "Just ask Bill Clinton."

"Or my Dad," He chuckled dryly and Rory saw a flicker of pain in his eyes but it left as quickly as it came. She wanted to ask him if he wanted to talk about it but he cut her off. "Okay, sex is disputable. Coffee – that's bad for you, you junkie."

"Hey!" she protested. "Coffee is not bad for me. In my case, I can't survive without it because there is too much of it in my system already. It can't be bad for me – it keeps me alive."

"Very cute."

She bit her lower lip and looked at him contemplatively. "You think I'm cute?"

"No," he answered quickly. She frowned in disappointment and he leaned forward, searching her face again and then looking into her eyes. When his voice came out, it was in a low, husky whisper. "I think you're beautiful." 

She felt her pulse quicken and her heart slam against her ribcage, as his mouth came closer to hers again. Her mind was screaming at her to stop and move away before something major happened but her body seemed to have other ideas as it quickly reacted and slid closer to him. His lips, soft and inviting inched closer and excitement rushed through her blood.

As his lips finally brushed softly against hers, she closed her eyes. 


	15. Chapter 15: Handling

Chapter 15: Handling

Tristan groaned when Rory's small hands slowly inched up his chest and curled around the back of his neck as they continued to kiss. Her fingers played with the soft hair there and sent little tingles through him. He suspected that she didn't even know what she was doing to him or how he was feeling. Tentatively, he traced her upper lip with his tongue and she sighed, opening her mouth and letting him deepen the kiss. Moaning again, he let his hands slip into her hair and pulled at the small rubber band holding the soft, silky strands together. 

Blood drummed in his ears and rushed to all the inappropriate parts of his body, as she whimpered against his demanding lips and returned the kiss with full intensity. Remembering that they needed to breathe, he reluctantly pulled away and grinned when she protested by letting out a frustrated sigh. "Breathe, Mary. We need to breathe."

Pulling away from him but leaving her hands on his shoulders, she took in deep breaths and nodded slightly. Laughing nervously she let her hands drop from his body and averted her gaze. He watched her, amused. "Right, I forgot. Lack of oxygen to the brain is not a good thing." She turned her wide, blue eyes to him and he had to check the urge to capture her now swollen lips between his again. "Well I certainly did not plan that."

He shrugged and played with a strand of her hair. "I was kind of worried about the kissing part of this night myself. But now that it's out of the way…"

She looked at him uncertainly. "Why were you worried about it?"

This time, he looked away from her questioning gaze and cleared his throat. "Because when we kiss, it always ends badly. I didn't want you running away like last night. Or like that night at Madeline's party. Jess told me that you broke up with Dean…and that night at the party, he had dumped you. Let's just say that was one deja-vu I didn't want to…well vu." 

When he looked at her, she nodded slightly and then smiled sheepishly. "Yeah, I guess I do run quite a bit. I just wanted you to know that it has nothing to do with you or your kisses. Like I've said before, they're nice kisses - very nice."

He laughed as she repeated her words from a year ago. "Not at all crying material?"

She shook her head and smiled. "You wanna try it again?"

"Oh yeah." He leaned in smirking before seizing her lips again. Her hands went to his face, his roamed over her back and just as he was about to push her back against the couch the doorbell rang. Laughing against her lips, he pulled away and hitched his head. "It's a sign, you know."

She grinned and pushed off the sofa. "Excuse me."

He watched her walk out of the living room and sighed. The night had taken a turn for the better. He had kept the leering to a minimum, he'd given her space and time, he had let her relax and hadn't pushed her to do anything she didn't want to and in return she'd been more civil and less snappy. _And when she's civil and un-snappy_, _I get to kiss her_, Tristan grinned and leaned back against the couch proud. _And to think that's all it takes._

He strained his ears to listen to who the unexpected visitor was but a second later, Rory appeared at the doorway again, her brows furrowed. He looked at her questioningly. "What's wrong?"

"No one was there," she replied slowly. "That's strange in a _Scream 3_ type of way."

Tristan chuckled and pointed towards the TV screen at the movie that was still playing. "Wanna turn that off and do something else?"

She nodded and he pressed the stop button on the remote control. "But we have to have some coffee first."

"Junkie."

"Shut up," she responded over her shoulder as they made their way into the kitchen. While she walked over to the sink to get a mug for herself, Tristan noticed something moving outside through the backdoor. "Would you like some too, Tristan?"

"Yeah sure," he said absently as he neared the backdoor. Jeans and a black leather jacket came into view. Frowning, he reached for the doorknob and opened the door. "And will the mystery guest please step in."

The person on the other side of the door stared at him levelly, hands clenched at his sides and jaw jutting out determinedly. Rory came to stand behind Tristan and immediately tensed up. "Dean, hey."

The dark haired boy kept staring at Tristan as he replied, "Hey Rory."

Tristan knew that he should quietly back down and let the Dean explain to Rory why he was there but he couldn't help himself. He smirked and hitched his head in the taller boys' direction. "And to what do we owe the pleasure of your company, farm boy?"

"I'm here to talk to Rory," Dean stepped inside and both Tristan and Rory took a step backwards to accommodate him. 

Rory looked nervously between them and Tristan wanted to reassure her that he didn't want to do anything stupid. Of course, his mouth had plans. "Looks like you were playing obsessive stalker freak by ringing her doorbell and then rummaging through her garbage." Tristan clucked his tongue for desired effect. "Some people just can't let go."

Dean started to lunge forward but Rory threw her body between them and placed her hands on her ex-boyfriend's chest. "Please don't, Dean. Just ignore him." She threw a glare at Tristan over her shoulder. "We'll talk in my room." 

Tristan sighed and ran a hand through his hair, cursing himself for being such a jerk. Things were going so well with him and Rory before. But Dean had a way of irking him beyond reason and it couldn't be helped. As he strained his ears to listen in on Rory's conversation with her ex, he hoped that the bagboy wasn't pleading for her to take him back. _He let her go and now it's my turn to have her. _

~*~ ~*~ ~*~ 

Rory crossed her arms over her chest in a nervous gesture and waited for Dean to say something. He looked around her room and the met her eyes, smiling sheepishly. "You're probably wondering what I am doing here."

"Yes, it crossed my mind."

"I'm wondering what _that_ guy is doing here."

Rory looked away from him awkwardly for a second and then realized that he wasn't her boyfriend anymore. She met his gaze again, this time confidently. "Tristan's my date tonight."

He sighed, ran a hand through his hair and nodded. "Thought so. Well I'm surprised to say the least. I thought you had more sense than that."

Rory eyes blazed at him. "You have no right, Dean. We're not dating anymore remember? I can see whomever I want and if it bothers you then please keep your comments to yourself."

He nodded. "You're right. But just because I don't kiss you anymore doesn't mean that I stopped caring. Tristan is bad news, Rory. You know that. He's a jerk and from the moment he's met you he wants nothing but to get you into bed. I thought you understood that."

Rory took a breath to calm down even as her mind reminded her that Dean was right. Tristan had said that he had wanted her and he had made it infinitely clear in what way. He wanted her body, he wanted another conquest…he didn't want her as a girlfriend. _But you want him, too, _her conscience added_. Or are we forgetting that little dream? _Rory groaned inwardly and wondered when it was she became so obsessed with that dream. She took a step closer to Dean and lifted her eyes to meet his. "I appreciate the concern, I really do. But I can handle myself around him." _Yeah right_. _Just like you were "handling" yourself on the couch before Dean rang the doorbell._

Dean sighed and then raised his hands in defeat. "Okay, just be careful."

"Why were you snooping?"

"I saw the BMW. Thought you might be busy."

Rory blushed thinking of exactly _how_ busy she was. Clearing her throat she stepped away from him and arched an eyebrow. "Did you come here for something other than to patronize me?"

Dean gave her a look and then nodded. "I left my Staind CD here and I promised someone I'd let them borrow it. Mind if I look in your collection?"

"It's in my Discman," she said as she picked up the small CD player from her dressing table and took the CD out. Placing it in the cover she handed it back to him and looked at him expectantly. "Anything else?"

Dean glanced over her shoulder at the kitchen and then back at her. Stepping closer he voiced his concern again. "I don't like that guy. I don't trust him."

Rory smiled widely. "Good thing you're not dating him, then."

Despite his worry he managed to grin. He shook his head in defeat and then just chuckled. "I should know better than to argue with you. Can't blame a guy for caring, can you?"

Her smile was genuine. "Thank you. I appreciate it." 

A few minutes later, Dean was gone and Rory turned to face Tristan again. He looked at her, brows arched and she wrung her hands. He laughed oddly. "Well that was an awkward moment if I ever saw one."

"Sorry 'bout that," she said. "You could've been nicer."

He looked like he was going to protest but then he just nodded. "Yeah, I could have. Sorry, that guy just…I better not say anything."

Rory tried to dispel the tension by smiling brightly. "So where were we?"

The minute the words were out of her mouth, she remembered exactly _where _it was they were before Dean showed up and blushed as Tristan smirked and stepped closer. When he towered over she looked up at him through lowered lashed, biting her lower lip in anticipation. "If I remember correctly we were right about here…"

His arms slipped around her waist and hers around his neck as his mouth opened over hers in a slow, sensual kiss. The butterflies and the heat returned to her stomach as the kiss grew deeper and knew that if she didn't stop it, the two of them would cross a line she wasn't ready to. She pulled away and he rested his forehead against her. Taking a few deep breaths, she brought her hands down from around his neck and stepped away. "Are you in the mood for ice cream?"

Without waiting for an answer, she pulled him towards the door. She blushed as she heard what he was muttering under his breath. "Yeah, I need something to cool me down."


	16. Chapter 16: What Makes You Different Mak...

Chapter 16: What Makes You Different (Makes You Beautiful)

He watched her from a distance for a while. 

She was sitting on a bench, legs crossed Indian style, her rich brown hair left open and hanging around her face as she hunched over whatever novel she was reading. He imagined it was something long and difficult. 

It was really beginning to surprise him that he knew so much about her habits, her quirks, how her brows furrowed just a bit when she concentrated and how her wide, innocent eyes twinkled with mischief or amusement – or how they darkened when she was angry or sad. He liked the way her eyebrows arched inquisitively and the way her lips stretched when she smiled widely. Her heart shaped face and the little dimple on her chin just added to her simple beauty. _Snap out of it. What are you? An artist? _

He shifted his books from one arm to another and started to walk towards her, adding his trademark stagger into the mix and slipping into the person everyone of the Chilton grounds was used to seeing.

She didn't even notice him until he sat down beside her and leaned forward to see the title of her latest literary adventure. He smiled knowingly as he read the name of the author - Friedrich Nietzsche. "You know it kind of bothers me that you're reading something by a guy who was insane."

Rory rolled her eyes and shook her head as if dealing with a small child. "He was insane later, Tristan. He wasn't insane when he was wrote this. Of course that probably doesn't motivate you to read it anyway, right?" 

He tried his best to look offended. "Hey, I read."

She arched an eyebrow in his direction challengingly. "What was the last thing you read that wasn't in the swimsuit edition of Sports Illustrated?"

He grinned. "_Lolita_."

She let out an exaggerated sigh but he could see her lips curling into a smile. "I should have known." She closed the book, set it on her lap and looked up at him, her smile full-fledged now. "It's okay, you know? We don't both have to like books to get a long."

He rolled his tongue over his upper teeth. "That's what I tried to prove when we first met."

"No, what you tried to prove that you were King of Chilton and I should bow down to you," Rory corrected indignantly. "Don't you remember? 'I don't know why you're fighting this. You're going to give in eventually' or is your memory selective nowadays?"

He chuckled and raised his hand in a surrendering gesture. "Okay, so I was a jerk. You weren't exactly the nicest person to me either, you know."

"So did you come hear to badger me about my choice in books or to argue? Or did you actually have a reason for sitting next to me?" she asked playfully.

He gave her a withering glare. "I do have a reason. There's this really nice restaurant that opened over the summer and I haven't been to it yet so I was wondering if you'd like to come with me tonight?"

His heart flipped in his chest when she smiled brightly and nodded. "You've got yourself a date."

"Great," he said trying not to sound uncharacteristically happy. "I'll pick you up at six."

"Okay," she said softly and he realized the proximity of their faces. All he had to do was lean forward and their lips would be touching again, like last night when he had kissed her goodnight. She looked like she wanted him to kiss her, too. "Tristan?"

"Hmm?" he asked absently as his eyes dropped to her soft, invitingly lips.

"My bus," she whispered slowly and he could feel her warm breath on his face. "It's here. I have to go."

The words 'bus' and 'go' registered a little late in his brain and he pulled away, laughing nervously. _For Chrissake, when did I turn into such a blithering idiot_? "Right, You have to go. See you at six."

"Yeah," she said as she collected her books and slung her knapsack over her shoulder.

He watched her get on to the bus and then leaned against the bench, wondering when and why he was so into Rory Gilmore. The unremitting ringing of his cell phone interrupted his musings and he quickly answered it. "Talk to me."

"Dude," a familiar voice greeted from the other end. "How's it hanging?"

Tristan broke out in a big grin. "Walker, hey man. Things are great here. In LA?"

Joseph Walker started to give Tristan a detailed version of everything that had happened to him since the last time they had talked to each other. Joey was a California boy down to the core – with sun-kissed hair, tanned skin and his love for surfing and girls in string bikinis. The two boys had started off on bad terms when Tristan had first started school in Los Angeles but Joey had saved him from his disastrous first surfing lesson and the two boys had formed a relationship that was unparalleled in Tristan's life. 

"So, what's going on with you, rich boy?"

"Not a lot," Tristan replied as he headed for his BMW. "There are some things here that make me miss LA and some things that make me glad that I came back home when I did."

"That something is a girl, isn't it?" Joey replied knowing. Before Tristan could answer, the other guy laughed. "Don't even try to deny it, dude. I know you. So who is she?"

"Rory," he slipped into the driver's seat and cradled the small phone between his shoulder and ear. He turned his key in the ignition and pulled out of the Chilton parking lot. "I have a date with her tonight."

"Rory, huh? The one who ran off crying when you kissed her?" Tristan could hear the amusement in his friend's voice.

"Shut up, Walker," he retorted. "I told you she was upset about her break-up."

"If that's what helps you sleep, dude," Joey joked and then became serious. "You really into her, right?"

"Yeah, why?"

"You're going to mess it up."

"Yeah, thanks for the vote of confidence," Tristan scoffed as he maneuvered in traffic. Then he gripped the cell phone with one hand and sighed loudly, a bout of insecurity attacking the wall of confidence that he had built around his heart. "And I know."

He hated the fact that he was so unsure about himself around Rory. He hated that she made him feel inadequate. He hated how she made him into a nothing more than a hormone-driven teenager with no capacity to think with his brain. Try as he might, he couldn't hate her for it. He couldn't even come close.

"Just chill," his friend advised. "This girl obviously digs you as much as you do her."

"How do you figure that, Joe?"

"She'd have to be crazy to go out with a guy that made her cry because of his horrible kisses. She isn't some kind of nut, right?"

In spite of himself, Tristan let out a whoop of laughter. "You're such a jackass. Man, Walker, I wish you were here."

"Yeah, preppy, I miss you too. Look, I gotta go. You behave young man."

"Sure thing Dad," Tristan replied wryly and turned off the cell phone.

~*~ ~*~ ~*~ 

"Ooh, I got one," Rory chirped as she dug into the chocolate mousse in front of her. Tristan sat across from her in the expensive and classy restaurant in the heart of downtown Hartford, dressed in a pair of black pants and a khaki colored shirt, his blue eyes regarding her with wary amusement as they continued their own twisted version of the game of twenty questions. "First kiss. I can't believe I didn't ask this before!"

He laughed and took a sip of his drink, avoiding her gaze. "Ask me something else."

"No!" she whined with a little pout. "I made the rules. You have to answer any question I ask. Now come on. Who was the girl?"

"Madeline." 

Rory gaped at him. "Madeline? Paris' friend, Madeline? Black hair, chirpy voice, cute little nose – that Madeline?"

"Yes," he replied with a heavy sigh. "That Madeline. We were eight. We didn't know what we were doing. It lasted like five seconds. I'm not even sure if she remembers it."

"Okay, your turn," instructed and took in another spoonful of her dessert.

He thought for a minute and then grinned. "A band that you're embarrassed to admit that you listen to."

She widened her eyes and wiped the corner of her mouth with her napkin. "I don't want to answer that."

"You have to."

"Why?"

"Because, it's a rule."

"I have the prerogative to change my mind." 

"Just answer it, Gilmore."

"Gosh, you're bossy," she stated and then sighed. "The Backstreet Boys."

He smirked. "Really? And what's the difference between those guys and all those other teeny-bopper boy bands?"

"Well, they have harmony – the whole Boyz II Men thing going on. Their voices sound good together. They don't sound like girls. And the lyrics aren't that bad. And they usually don't sing about liquid dreams and dirty pop," she explained logically. When he continued to grin at her, she rolled her eyes. "So what about you? Who do you like to listen to and are embarrassed about?"

"TLC," he replied after some deliberation.

It was her turn to smirk. "You're kidding. So, what, you like the whole girl power, no scrubs deal do you?"

He scoffed. "I like their earlier stuff, the deeper stuff. When they were singing about friends and waterfalls. Besides, they're hot."

She laughed and shook her head in mock disdain. "Everything always comes back to sex with you, doesn't it? What am I going to do with you?"

He leaned forward and leered. "I can think of a few things I'd like you to do with me."

She lowered her gaze and blushed, staring into her dessert as they lapsed into an odd silence. Rory had seen a side of Tristan tonight in a mood that he rarely was in – relaxed. Sure, he always walked around like nothing mattered and he had given the word 'casual' a completely different and exciting meaning but she had never seen him so calm and content. And when he was this way, she found out a lot more about the real Tristan DuGrey then the one he showed in public.

And along with the knowledge of what Tristan was like before she met him, she recognized something else: that she liked to him smile.

She was so absorbed in her thoughts she didn't even realize that the waiter had brought the bill and Tristan was reaching into his wallet for his credit card. She reached over and rested her hands on his to stop him. "I ate more than you did. I should at least pay for that."

"I'm the man," he replied smoothly but she knew that she couldn't persuade him to change his mind by the determined set of his jaw. "I pay."

"Yes Tarzan." After a few minutes, the waiter came back with the credit card and wished them a good night. Grabbing her purse, Rory followed him outside, taking in a deep breath of the cool September air. "So what's on the agenda, now?"

He smiled as the valet pulled up with his BMW. "I know just the place."

Ten minutes later, they were whizzing through traffic and Rory had no idea where they were headed. "This place doesn't look familiar. Should I be scared?"

Before he could answer, his cell phone rang and he reached into his pocket to answer, throwing her an apologetic smile. "Hello? Sean? Where are you…okay listen, buddy just calm down…I need you to repeat that slowly…where's your babysitter…just stay there. I'll be over in about five minutes. Be brave, buddy."

Rory looked up at him concerned. "Who was that? What's going on?"

"That was Sean," Tristan replied absently and took a sharp right turn. "He's my little brother."

"I didn't know you had one. Is he okay?"

"He's not really my brother. I'm part of a program, you know those big brother type deals?" he explained hastily. She looked on apprehensively and he elaborated. "It's part of community service, I'll explain later. Sean's babysitter passed out and he doesn't know why. His mother is at the opera or something…I couldn't hear clearly. Can you please dial 911?"

Rory quickly took the phone out of his hand as he swerved through traffic and turned the car in the opposite direction. When she couldn't get through, she hit the small piece of technology and tried again. "I can't get a signal."

"Damn," he swore and the pressed his foot on the accelerator. "Hold on, Mary. This is where I get reckless."

She nodded mutely, processing in the newly acquired information. As the car zipped through traffic, Rory studied Tristan's apprehensive, concerned profile and wondered if he would ever stop surprising her. Tonight, she had seen different parts of him that she was beginning to admire. It was like she was finally getting all the pieces of a tiring yet intriguing jigsaw puzzle into place.

It was like she was finally looking at him as he was really. And she was beginning to think that it was beautiful. 


	17. Chapter 17: Oh, Baby!

Chapter 17: Oh Baby!

Tristan felt like he was on automatic pilot as he drove through the residential area of Sean Fitzgerald's town. The girl sitting in the passenger seat – his date for the evening, a date he was looking forward to for years now - was almost forgotten as he frantically told himself to calm down so he wouldn't drive into a tree. 

The sound of Sean's voice shook him to the core just as the realization that he was supposed to be playing hero. The little boy called him first and now it was actually Tristan's turn to do his part – for the first time he had to be depended upon. He had to be responsible. To be in control. To not screw up. 

And all he wanted to do was hurl.

Swearing when he almost missed the sharp turn into Sean's street he slammed the brakes causing Rory to gasp slightly and clutch the armrest. He shot her a brief, apologetic smile and then quickly got out of the car, Rory following him closely. The sound of his shoes on the cobblestone pathway to the door grated his nerves and he had to clench his fists his frustration. He silently gave himself a pep talk and told himself to calm down and stay in control. Sean was depending on him and he wasn't going to let the kid down.

Tristan rang the doorbell and waited, belatedly remembering that Rory was behind him. A small, scared voice came from behind the door. "Who is it?"

He was glad that the kid was smart enough to ask the question. "Sean, buddy, it's me Tristan. Open the door."

Immediately the door flew open and revealed the chubby, red-haired boy with wide, terrified green eyes that Tristan had formed an easy friendship with. Tristan bent down as chubby arms wrapped around his neck and quickly scooped the seven year old in his arms. "I'm so scared. When I came downstairs, Anne was lying on the kitchen floor. I called her name but she wouldn't answer. What's wrong with her, Tristan?"

Depositing the boy on the ground, Tristan quickly headed to the kitchen and found a petite girl sprawled on her back on the white tiles of the floor, her blonde hair splayed in every direction, her arms at her side and her head cocked to the side her eyes closed. She looked awfully pale and her lips were starting to turn an unattractive blue. When Rory gasped from behind him he had to remind himself not to lose control.

Immediately, he sprang into action. Crouching down next to the unconscious Anne, he quickly spotted a plastic orange bottle in her hand. Untangling it from her still lukewarm fingers her read the name of the prescription and concluded that she had probably overdosed on whatever the little white pills inside were. "Rory, try 911 again!"

"Yeah," the brunette said and spotted the phone on the wall. 

Sean came to stand beside Tristan. "Is she going to be okay?"

Tristan glanced up at him and the pushed him gently to the side. "I hope so, Sean. Move out of the way so I can try and wake her."

Recalling everything he had learned about CPR and mouth-to-mouth, Tristan quickly checked for a pulse and her breath and immediately found none. Cursing in his mind, he tilted Anne's head back and placed his mouth on hers, puffing in two breaths five seconds apart. When that didn't work, he quickly found the correct spot on the girl's chest and administered CPR, remembering not to be too harsh.

Rory knelt down beside him. "They're on their way."

He nodded briefly and continued pumping his hands. Rory's hand came to the junction of the girls' jaw and neck a small smile fleeting over her lips. "There's a pulse. It's faint." 

Tristan realized that Anne's chest was still and that she still wasn't breathing. Quickly he bent his head over hers again and administered mouth-to-mouth again, just as he heard the assuring sound of sirens. Rory left the kitchen to open the door and came back moments later with two EMTs and a police officer, just as Anne sputtered against, Tristan's lips. 

As the three men crowded the kitchen, Anne rolled a little to her side, groaning as Tristan backed away from her – eyes wide and relief swimming through him. In a matter of minutes, they had Anne strapped in a stretcher and loaded her into the back of the ambulance.

The police officer walked up to where Tristan, Rory and Sean stood and extended his hand. "Officer O'Doyle. It seems Ms. Friedman OD'd on some sleeping pills. It was great that you got to her when you did, son. You might've just saved her life. Good work."

"Thank you, Officer," Tristan answered with a smile. "She'll be okay?"

"Yes, she will." 

Once the ambulance and the police car pulled out of the Fitzgerald driveway, Tristan turned to Rory and let out a sigh of relief. She gave him a wide smile and sighed too. "Well that was definitely interesting."  

"Tristan's a hero!" Sean piped up, looking at Tristan adoringly.

Rory chuckled and then crouched down to the child's height. "Don't inflate his ego too much, kid." She smirked at him when he gave her a withering glare. "Looks like you got a fan, Tristan."

Sean scrunched his nose and looked at Rory funny. "Hey, who are you?"

Tristan laughed. "Sean, this is Rory Gilmore. Rory, my little brother Sean." 

"Are you his girlfriend?" the boy asked, his hands on his hips.

Tristan watched a lovely blush spread over her face and grinned at her. Then, he looked at Sean and winked. "I'm trying my hardest buddy - she's a tough nut to crack. What do you think? Do I have a chance?"

"With her?" Sean said with an arched brow. "Not really."

Rory guffawed. "Smart kid."

Tristan pursed his lips in annoyance. "Thanks a lot buddy."

Suddenly there was a high-pitched wail from upstairs, which made Rory's eyes widen in surprise and Tristan groan. Sean sighed and headed for the base of the stairs. "That's Maggie, my baby sister. She's awake."

"You think?" Tristan grumbled. He turned to Rory and gave her an apologetic smile. "I'm so sorry for this. I know babysitting is not on your fun list right now. If you want, I could call you a cab or get my dad's chauffeur to take you home."

"Are you kidding? I'm staying," she protested. "You're not going to be bale to handle two kids on your own. You're not a babysitter." 

"Thanks for the vote of confidence."

"You know what I mean."

"Yeah," he said and took her hand in his, running his thumb over the soft skin of her knuckles. Her eyes locked with his and she smiled gently. "Thank you." 

"You're welcome." She took a step closer and turned her face upwards, just as he leaned in for a kiss. But before he could feel the warmth of her lips on his and get lost in the sensations she created inside him, another loud wail had them stepping away from each other. She giggled. "I think there's another girl waiting for you." 

He chuckled and the two headed upstairs to tend to Maggie Fitzgerald.

~*~ ~*~ ~*~ 

When Rory stepped into the baby's room right behind Tristan, she was greeted by the sight of Sean standing near his sister's crib on a step stool, trying to calm down the wailing, red-haired baby by making faces.  Unaware that his attempts to soothe his sister were failing, Sean made scary noises to go along with his faces, aggravating Maggie even more.

"Hey there buddy," Tristan greeted. "Why don't you step away from the baby and no one will be hurt."

Sean returned his face to normal and looked at Tristan matter-of-factly. "I'm trying to coo her. My mom says that if a baby is crying, you have to cheer her up."

"Your mother is a wise woman," Tristan agreed hands in his pockets. "But I think Maggie doesn't appreciate your humor as much as she should." Then he turned to Rory with an expectant look on his face. "Well?"

"Well what?" Rory asked.

"Take care of the baby," Tristan instructed.

"Why do you assume that I know how to quiet her down?"

"Because you're a girl."

"And that makes me Carol Brady?"

"Mary," Tristan groaned and looked at the baby who was still crying loudly. "This is no time for you to go all girl power on me! I need you to shut that baby up!"

Rory looked at Maggie, then Sean and then cried out exasperated. "I'm terrible with kids! I'm usually the one that _makes_ them cry!"

"Guys," Sean piped up finally. "The reason Maggie's crying is because she needs her diaper changed."

Tristan's eyes went wide and then he shook his head and ran a frustrated hand through his hair. He looked at Rory in wonderment. "What do we do know?"

Biting her lower lip to stop her giggles she shrugged. "Don't look at me, Mr. Mom."

"Come on, Rory! You're a girl. You have instincts. Maternal ones!" he protested, his calm exterior slipping away. "It's a baby. How hard can it be?"

"Then why don't you do it?" When he looked at her pleadingly, she conceded. "Okay, okay! But if there's a diaper full of poop in there then you're the one throwing it away."

Tentatively, Rory stepped closer to the baby and managed to smile. "Hey there, Maggie." When then baby's sobs subsided to curious hiccups, Rory lifted the girl out of her crib and placed her onto the changing table. Sean and Tristan came to stand behind her, watching in nervous anticipation. "Okay, now that you're on the table, would you happen to know where the diapers are?"

"Bah," Maggie answered and then started to pout.

"Oh no, don't start to cry again!" Rory soothed softly, worried. Sean handed her a diaper and she looked at him, grateful. Swallowing the nervous lump that rose in her throat, Rory quickly unfastened the diaper and pulled the offensive thing out from under the baby.

"Hey watch it!" Tristan said as she flung it close to him.

"Dispose of it!" Rory ordered.

"What? Where?"

"In here," Sean answered as he led Tristan to the diaper pail.

Once the dirty diaper was buried deep with the rest of the baby trash Rory slipped a fresh diaper under Maggie who seemed to be preoccupied with shoving her hand in her mouth. Smiling at the cute child, Rory quickly learned how to put on a diaper and in a matter of minutes the child was beaming and stretching her arms for Rory to lift her.

"Done!" Rory announced proudly and picked the baby off the changing table. "Watch and learn, DuGrey."

"Uh, no thanks," he answered with a chuckle. "Remind me never to have kids."

As the trio headed downstairs again, Rory with the baby tucked securely in her arms babbling away, she pondered over his statement. "You don't want kids?"

"I don't know," he shrugged. "I guess I never really thought about it. It seems you have."

"But who doesn't want kids?"

"My mom doesn't want us anymore," Sean piped up suddenly and the two teenagers remembered that he was still there.

When they reached the landing, she turned to him surprised. "What do you mean, Sean? Your mom loves you." 

"No she doesn't." Sean replied, adamant. "If she did, she would have never divorced my dad and wouldn't be out all the time dating other guys."

Rory and Tristan shared a look and he grabbed the little boy by the arm and led him to the couch. Rory followed and sat down on an armchair, with Maggie playing happily in her lap. "Hey buddy. Listen, I know sometimes it's tough not having your parents together. But just because they're not together doesn't mean they don't want you."

"Then why doesn't Daddy visit anymore?" Sean asked, on the verge of tears. "And if Mommy wants me then why is she sad all the time?"

"I don't know buddy, but sometimes parents have problems that they need to fix."

"But why did she leave us with Anne tonight?"

The last statement had Rory wondering if Mrs. Fitzgerald knew that Anne was a bad babysitter and still didn't think about it enough to provide her children proper care. She looked over at Tristan who was stroking the boy on his back and wondered for what seemed like that umpteenth time that night if there was more to Tristan DuGrey that met the eye. Sitting there, trying to calm the child down seemed like something she would never see the other Tristan – the one that teased her and walked around the halls of Chilton like he owned the place – do. 

"Like I said buddy, I don't know."

"Hey Sean," Rory added with a soft smile. "I'm sure that your mother loves you very much. You have to believe that."

"Okay," the boy sniffed. 

"How about we go and see if there's ice cream in the freezer and then pig out?" Tristan suggested with a boyish grin that had Rory's heart flipping in her chest.

Sean's eyes brightened. "We have a whole carton of Cookies and Cream!"

"That's the best!" Rory announced as she followed the two into the kitchen, with Maggie latching on to her. She gave the smiling baby a kiss. "This night sure took a fun turn." A loud bang and then a squeal of laughter from the kitchen had Rory eating her words. "Or maybe not."


	18. Chapter 18: Hard To Resist

Chapter 18: Hard To Resist 

The drive home had started relatively quiet. Rory, who had offered to drive, kept her eyes on the road, smiling now and then as she thought of Sean and Maggie and how different Tristan looked playing and taking care of them. Tristan sat in the passenger seat, sprawled as always, looking utterly exhausted. Glancing at him, she finally decided to speak. "Hey, you good?"

He looked at her as if finally remembering she was there and gave her a patented grin that seemed to take away all the rough, tired edges off his face – and her breath with it. "I don't know, Mary. You tell me."

She bit the inside of her lower lip to hide her smile and then rolled her eyes. "Don't hide behind your attitude, DuGrey. Seriously, are you okay?"

He shrugged slightly, keeping his face on the road, not looking at her. "Been better."

When they were in the Fitzgerald's kitchen, standing over Anne, she had seen the fear and uncertainty in his eyes right before he had administered CPR to the victim. Then it had vanished and he had kept up a calm, cool and playful pretense for Sean, his sister and Rory knew, even for her. She took in a breath before choosing her next words. "You did great tonight."

When she glanced at him, his brow arched as he started ahead. "Yeah?"

"Of course. They way you handled Sean and his sister. And you saved the sitter's life without a moment's hesitation. I was impressed. Proud, even. You were brave."

"Yeah well, I was scared."

She was surprised by the admission. "It's not brave if you're not scared."

That got his attention because he was finally looking at her, grinning again. "Eleanor Roosevelt?"

"Gwenyth Paltrow."

She pulled up to her driveway, shut off the engine and turned to him with a small smile. His grin broadened as he leaned forward. "What? You're not gonna walk me to the door?"

"This is my house, stupid," she countered with an eye roll. "You'll drive back, alright?"

It was his turn to roll his eyes as he unfastened his seat belt. "I'll be fine. I'm a big boy."

"I was just concerned," she said and unfastened her seat belt as well. He got out of the car and made his way to the driver's side to open the door for her. She hopped out and crossed her arms over her chest. "You didn't look so fine right now…and if you weren't up to it, I would've suggested that you spend the night here."

He smiled devilishly. "You're that anxious to get me in your bed, huh, Mary?"

She shook her head and sighed in defeat. "Go home, Tristan."

She pushed past him and headed towards her porch, wondering why she was so upset with him all of a sudden. She knew that he always used a front to hide his true feelings and it never bothered her before but now, knowing that he didn't want to share them with her, made her feel…inadequate.

"Come on," he implored coming up behind her. He grabbed her hand when she kept walking and she turned to face him, feigning disinterest. "I was just kidding."

"No you weren't," she replied stubbornly. "You always turn a serious conversation into something sexual."

"Rory," he stated slowly and then smiled. "You threw me that one right down the middle. What was I supposed to do?"

His grin was contagious and then she started to giggle, of course, thinking back to her choice of words she realized that they were suggestive. She smacked him lightly on the chest and smiled up at him as her laughter subsided. "What are we going to do about that libido of yours?"

One arm snaked around her waist and drew he closer. His brow arched perfectly and a mischievously curved his lips. "I can think of a few things."

She laughed again, placing her hands on his chest before slowly sliding her arms around his neck. "You're really good with subtext, you know that? Of course you do. All those girls drooling after you…such a pretty face."

"I'm pretty, huh?"

She nodded in confirmation and fluttered her lashes coyly. "Beautiful." 

This time he laughed - that deep, husky laugh that made her want to kiss him until he couldn't form a coherent sentence, his dimples deepened and his eyes turned sapphire. "This is one of the weirdest conversations I have ever had." 

"Well, be prepared for more of the weirdness," she replied with a bright smile. "You're dating a Gilmore. It's genetic."

His eyes dropped to her lips and all of a sudden the amusement vanished from his face. Her breathing hitched as he unconsciously licked his lips and lowered his voice an octave. "Can I kiss you, now?"

The simple question had her heart beating wildly and her pulse racing in anticipation. She lowered her gaze to his lips as well, and lifted her face in response. "Yes. Please do."

His lips grazed hers…once, twice, three times before crushing them together. The heat that leaped in her blood made her gasp and he took advantage of it by deepening the kiss, his tongue sliding over hers, stroking and caressing making her head swim. One of his hands splayed across the small of her back, rubbing small circles there, while the other traveled tantalizingly up her arm before he buried his fingers in her hair.

Somewhere in the back of her head, she understood that the way he was kissing her was a technique he had perfected no doubt over the years, with a lot of different girls. When the thought of this moment being just a name on his long list popped into her head, her body and her heart refused to acknowledge it. Instead, she continued to kiss him back making sure it was something he wouldn't be forgetting any time soon. 

~*~ ~*~ ~*~

Tristan finally lifted his mouth from hers, more out of the need to breathe than wanting to terminate what he had started; the haze slowly started lifting from his mind. Rory was breathing heavily, her eyes still closed and her lips slightly parted. Her grinned lazily and tugged softly at a wayward strand of her hair. "Kisses like those should be illegal or something."

Her eyes opened and she smiled faintly. "I think they are in some countries."

"Then remind me never to go there with you," he whispered burying his face in her hair. "We'd get booked within seconds."

She laughed and then shuddered in his arms when he lifted his mouth to the side of her face and grazed her earlobe with his teeth. "If you don't stop, my mother will book us now."

His lips grazed and nipped her ear again. "I'll charm my way out of it."

"My mother is immune to charm," she said softly and then suddenly tensed. He heard the sound of tires on gravel and turned his head to see a car slowly easing up the driveway. Rory backed away from him, flustered. "That's my dad's car!"

Tristan turned fully and watched the car come to a stop, its headlights shining accusingly in his face. He leaned in to whisper to her. "You think I could charm him?"

She pinched him on the elbow. "He didn't see us, right? He won't know."

Tristan stifled a laugh. There was no way Rory's dad wasn't going to know what his daughter was doing. Tristan had made sure of that. Rory looked thoroughly kissed – her hair mussed, her lips swollen perfectly, her eyes dark with wisps of desire swirling about in them. But he wasn't going to tell her that. 

Suddenly a tall, lean blonde haired man was looking at him, smiling expectantly. Rory threw herself in his arms and kissed his cheek. "Dad! Hi! I didn't know you were coming. What did you do now?"

"A whole lot. Most of it illegal," the man replied, straightening out her hair. Then he looked over her shoulder at Tristan. "And you must be…?"

Tristan stepped forward and extended his hand, making sure his voice came out polite and proper like he was raised and not like a boy who had been groping the man's daughter like there was no tomorrow. "Tristan DuGrey, sir."

"Christopher Hayden." His handshake was firm and his smile warm. 

"Well now that that is all out of the way," Rory laughed nervously, eager to get her father inside. "Dad, I think you should hurry in and talk to Mom. I don't see his car, so I guess Luke isn't here yet. We can avoid testosterone poisoning, this time."

"I don't like what you're implying young lady," he retorted, trying to be stern. "And don't get pushy with me, that might work for your mother…"

"Dad, just go!" Rory replied exasperated.

When he was gone, Tristan chuckled. "I like him." 

"Yeah well, once Luke gets here, you won't," she stated with a sigh. Then she smiled at him and he knew that she needed to say goodnight. "I'll see you tomorrow?" 

"Yes, we have school, don't we?" 

"Okay, so at school it is!" she declared enthusiastically. "Goodnight Tristan."

"Just like that?"

"Excuse me?"

He shook his head in disbelief, wondering if she was just playing dumb. He took a step closer and she looked up at him, her eyes wide and her breathing already slowing down. It excited him to know that he had such an effect on her. "What are we doing here, Rory?"

She studied his face for a minute before answering, "Saying goodnight?"

"I mean tonight, and the night before and the kissing… it's nice isn't it?" he asked running his hand up her arm. "I mean, besides from our normal routine."

"Yes," she answered sounding distracted by his hand. "Very nice."

"Getting harder to resist, is it?"

She paused before furrowing her brows in confusion. "What are you saying?"

He leaned forward and placed a kiss on the corner of her mouth. "I'm saying that I'd like to continue doing this."

"Right now?" she whispered softly. 

He smiled against her lips. "Well, actually I'm not sure that would be a good idea. Your parents are probably watching from the window."

She nipped at his lips. "Probably."

"So how about tomorrow?" He kissed her back, softly.

"No," she replied and he pulled away, surprised. She smiled mischievously. "I'm having dinner with my grandparents. Every Friday night. It's tradition." 

Relieved, he merely smiled. "Afterwards? For ice cream?"

"I'll let you know tomorrow."

He nodded and she leaned up to place a soft kiss against the corner of his mouth, sending blood rushing everywhere. Before he could crush his lips to her again, she was already walking to her door. Chuckling, he pocketed his hands and watched her. "Goodnight Mary."


	19. Chapter 19: It's Not So Bad

Chapter 19: It's Not So Bad 

The first thing she noticed as she spotted Tristan in the library was that he was reading. She found him in the science section, in the aisle, hunched over a large book that splayed across his forearms. The second thing she noticed was that he had taken off his blazer, undone the first button on his shirt underneath, loosened his tie and rolled up his sleeves. Rory was beginning to think that he was the only one who could make casual look so sophisticated. And so damn sexy.

"Well I'll be a monkey's uncle," she greeted with a teasing smile and then leaned against the wood paneled bookrack at the end of the aisle. "Tristan DuGrey is reading a book. And looking interested in it." 

Running his tongue over his upper teeth, he closed the book and looked up at her. "You know, there is a reason why I have one of the highest GPAs in our class."

She pretended to ponder and ventured a guess. "You're sleeping with your female teachers?" 

He looked at her witheringly. "You're not the only one who wants to go to college. The holier-than-thou routine is getting a little old…and annoying."

Taken aback by the underlying harshness in his tone, she bit her bottom lip. "Wow, someone is a little crabby today."

He sighed, put the book back on the shelf and smiled at her apologetically. "I'm sorry. I've just had a very bad day. Teachers breathing down my neck, my father threatening me…stuff like that."

She walked over and patted his arm sympathetically. "That's understandable. Hopefully, I can make you feel better."

"I'm sure you can." He smirked, then waggled his eyebrows suggestively and lowered his voice an octave. "What did you have in mind?"

"Dinner tonight. At my grandparents." she answered beaming. His brows drew together and she plunged forward before he could protest without hearing her out. "See, Grandma somehow managed to get my father to accept an invitation to our family dinners. Now, my mother in all her dysfunction couldn't somehow talk with Luke about it and make him see that it was no big deal. Instead, she wrangled an invitation for him too. Now, it's me alone with my grandparents, my parents and my mother's boyfriend. Does that somehow seem wrong to you?"

Tristan was grinning when she finished. "So you're asking me to come because…?"

"So that I'll have someone to sit next to when they argue and then leave with when they start throwing food around and poking each other with sharp utensils!" Rory answered dramatically. 

"Why me?"

"Because…" she replied exasperated, coming up short for an answer. "If anyone can understand family dysfunction it's you or Jess. And Jess is on Diner duty."

"So I win by default," he stated brushing past her and walking over to a table to retrieve his books.

She frowned. "If you're going to be so sensitive about it…"

He laughed. "I was kidding. Yes, I'd like to have dinner with your family."

They exited the library together and she rolled her eyes. "Well, I don't know about the liking part. But just don't hold it against me when you're wishing you never agreed to it. I cannot be held responsible for their actions."

"I won't," he promised as they made their way to the parking lot. Tristan squinted and she shielded her eyes against the sun with her hand so she could see what he was looking at. "Isn't that Jess?"

Rory's eyes widened. "Yes, I believe it is."

"Maybe he's here to give you lift?"

"My bus is coming in five minutes."

"Maybe he's here for Paris."

Rory chuckled. "More likely. I'm going to go and check if everything is okay. So I'll see you at seven tonight?"

"Seven it is," he confirmed. Then without warning, bent his head and brushed his lips against softly hers. Before she could respond he pulled away and started walking to his car, parked a few feet away. He called over his shoulder. "Later Mary." 

Blushing and hoping that no one saw that, she turned and walked over to Jess and the beat-up old truck that stood out pathetically in the Chilton parking lot. 

On her way, she bumped into Louise and Madeline, who cornered her in the courtyard. "We have questions. You have information. Share."

She looked at the blonde funnily. "Hey guys. Okay, you're scaring me."

"This Jess guy, who is he?" Madeline asked.

"A friend of mine."

"From Stars Hollow?" 

"Yes."

"That would explain the truck," Louise stated, looking over at said automobile with disdain. "So is this serious?"

"Paris and Jess?" Rory asked confused and then rubbed her temple. "I don't know. They've been on two dates."

"For Paris, that's serious," the brunette reminded them.

"Speaking of serious," Louise drawled. "You and Tristan seem close. What happened? I thought you didn't like him."

She looked over Louise's shoulder and watched Tristan's BMW leave the grounds. She thought of the night before and his kisses. She shrugged. "I was wrong."

~*~ ~*~ ~*~ 

At seven that night, Tristan rang the doorbell of the Gilmore mansion. He didn't know why he was nervous. It was only dinner with Rory's grandparents. They were civilized people – he was a civilized person. He could do this. 

Somewhere he knew that this was the first time a girl had invited him to dinner with her family. The first time some girl had meant so much that he wanted to make a good impression with her family – wanted to be accepted as a part of her life. _God, I feel like I'm on one of those all-American family TV shows. _

His train of thought was derailed when Rory wrenched open the door. Her dress was the same color of her eyes and it seemed to light up her entire face. Somehow, she always made him forget what to say. 

She looked at him frantically – like she wanted him to take her away from there. He smiled knowingly as he stepped in. "Is it that bad already?"

"They're fighting over which beer tastes better," she complained as he hung his coat. Her eyes distractedly wandered over his shirt, tie and trousers and then met his own. "You look good."

Unused to receiving compliments about the way he looked from her, he couldn't help but grin widely. "Thank you, Rory. You always look good." 

He was satisfied by his answer when she flushed prettily. She smiled nervously and then looked warily at the entrance of what he assumed was the living room. "Are you sure you wanna go in there just yet?"

"Is there any way we can avoid it altogether?"

"They'll have Beatrice come looking for us, so no."

"Then I'm as ready as I'll ever be," he said and offered her his arm. Smiling gratefully she hooked her arm with his. "Just remember, first you try and distract them with something else when things start heating up. Talk a lot about things that really don't matter."

"And if that doesn't work?"

"Keep your mouth shut and finish all your vegetables."

She groaned. "I hope there's no broccoli. I hate it."

They stepped into the brightly lit room, and he immediately picked up snippets of the ongoing argument of beer that Christopher was having with the man seated by Lorelai, who Tristan assumed was Luke. The red-haired woman seated in the farthest corner with a glass of red wine seemed to be annoyed and when she spotted Rory and Tristan, she smiled brightly and stood up. "Well, hello. You must be Tristan."

He extended his hand and smiled genuinely. "Yes ma'am. Pleased to meet you."

She looked relieved that he proved to be a great distraction. "Look who joined us! It's Rory's friend, Tristan DuGrey." 

"Hey Tristan," Lorelai said giving him a quick wave. "And you dressed appropriately and everything. You know Chris, don't you?"

"Yes," he replied. "Hello, Mr. Hayden."

"Christopher, please." 

"And the man with the bowtie," Lorelai started and when Mr. Gilmore frowned at her she merely continued, "and the disapproving stare is my father, Richard Gilmore."

The two shook hands before Rory tugged at his arm. "And this is Luke."

"Hi," the man grunted uncomfortably. 

"Luke Danes," Tristan repeated and extended his hand. "You own the diner and are a source of everlasting joy for junkies around the world."

Lorelai giggled at her daughter. "He learns fast."

The cook came up behind them and announced that dinner was ready. At the table, Tristan was seated next to Rory and across from Lorelai, who was sandwiched between Christopher and Luke. Richard and Emily took their seats at the head and foot of the table and Tristan could practically feel the air grow thick with a familiar, unbreakable tension. He'd lived through enough family dinners to recognize disharmony. 

He cleared his throat and smiled in Richard's direction. "Mr. Gilmore, Rory tells me that you've started your own business. My grandfather has said that you're one of the best and most honest businessman he's ever met."

"You're grandfather is a wise man," Richard joked with a smile. "Janlan and I went to Yale together, you know. Will you be attending Yale?"

"That's what my father wants," Tristan replied evasively. 

"A good education is a unparalleled commodity."

"But there are other places you can get a good education," Rory chimed in with a smile. "Harvard, for example."

"Or Princeton," Christopher added with a smile.

"I agree," Richard stated and then proceeded to compare and contrast all Ivy League colleges.

Rory looked at Tristan and smiled and mouthed her words. "Thank you."

_This isn't so bad_, he thought and smiled back. 


	20. Chapter 20: Just A Taste Of You

Chapter 20: Just A Taste Of You 

The good mood and easy conversation didn't hold up much longer at the dining table later that meal. Somehow, the topics ranged from easy to more personal and then all of a sudden, everyone seemed to be glaring at each other – the past revisited and the tension thicker than ever.

Rory had expected her mother, her father and Luke to duke it out – even subtly at dinner. She bitterly wondered how her grandparents who were socially conscious people seemed to forget their manners and were rehashing past mistakes and voicing underlying resentment in front of Tristan. 

She leaned over to Tristan and whispered over Lorelai's angry tirade, directed at her mother. "How did this happen?"

"I think when Luke started talking about that ball player," Tristan replied. "Then Christopher said he liked that Mike whathisname and Lorelai agreed with him and then -"

"Thank you for the blow-by-blow," she muttered. "What can I do to stop it?"

"You tried everything."

"There has to be something else. This is ridiculous."

He shrugged and then glanced at her plate. "Are those vegetables any good?"

She sighed, wiped the side of her mouth with her napkin and stood up. No one but Tristan noticed. She grabbed his arm and hauled him. "Excuse us."

They fled the dining room and she led him upstairs, humiliated and tired of her family's problems. Tristan walked quickly beside her and she could tell he was looking at her oddly. "Where are we going?"

"Anywhere but back to dinner," she answered and stopped in front of her room, flinging the door open and rushing inside. "We'll wait in here. Until they come looking for us."

Tristan flicked on the lights and then let out a short laugh as he looked around the room. "This is your room?"

"My grandmother designed it."

"It's pink. Somehow, you don't strike me as the pink kind of girl," he announced, scanning the walls as she plopped down on her bed. He grinned when his eyes rested on the framed posted above the bed. "So you a big N'SYNC fan?"

"According to my grandmother," she shot back. "I don't actually live here."

"But this is where you seek refuge?" he asked aching his eyebrow. He sat down on the wooden trunk at the foot of her bed. "Scary."

"What do you suggest? I go back out there?"

"It's better than looking at Justin Timberlake."

"He was good enough for Britney," she joked wearily. 

"I rest my case."

She giggled and then tucked her hair behind her ear.  She glanced at him sideways, a small smile on her lips. "Thank you - for trying to maintain civility downstairs. And for making me laugh when it didn't work." 

"Always a pleasure to be of service to you," he replied with a grand gesture of his arm. "Besides, I've tried to do it plenty of times before. Your family isn't half as bad as mine. When I was younger, I used to escape into the coat room or the linen closet when things got too hairy."

"What would you do in there?" she asked, removing her heels so that she could face him on the bed, Indian-style. 

"Well, I used to fall asleep and one of the maids would drag me to my room when they realized I was missing," he explained ruefully. "When I got older, I snuck out or then just locked myself in my room. They stopped caring one way or the other by then." 

She reached over and put her hand on his. "I'm sorry."

He shook his head and shrugged. "Not your fault. At least with you, they're all angry because they just care too much. You don't know what you have, Rory." 

"I think I have a pretty good idea, though." 

They sat in silence for a few minutes, both lost in their own thoughts. "Why did you invite me tonight? I mean, the real reason."

She bit her bottom lip, trying to think of the words. "Because I wanted you to meet my grandparents." She grinned teasingly. "Maybe I wanted to show you off a little too." 

"Oh well then I'm glad," he grinned back. As he held her gaze, she felt her heartbeat accelerate and her blood hum with anticipation. He lowered his voice to a murmur as he closed the distance between their mouths. "Thank you." 

She closed her eyes sighed contently when his lips brushed against hers. Her hands immediately flew to his hair and she dug her fingers in, loving the softness. His tongue sought entrance and she obliged, unconsciously unfolding her legs and pulling him forward. Lost in the kiss, she didn't realize that he was pushing gently her on to the bed until he was on top her. His body pressed luxuriously against hers, sending her blood rushing through her and short-circuiting her thought process.

They broke apart for a second, to breathe and his mouth descended on her again, this time more passionately. Her fingers moved through his hair and down his neck before resting between his shoulder blades, rubbing small circles on his skin through the material of his shirt. He groaned into her mouth when she arched slightly against him. Curious that such a movement could make his kisses hotter, she pressed up against him again, this time harder and with more purpose. When he dragged his lips away from hers and moaned, she smiled. "Rory, do you have any idea what you're doing?"

"Some," she admitted and kissed his jaw. "I just like kissing you." 

He laughed and leaned in again. "Then who am I to deny you?" 

_I love kissing him; I mean, _she corrected silently when their lips met again. Dean had never kissed her…so uninhibitedly. They kissed when it seemed necessary – when he was dropping her off after a date or when he was greeting her when she came back from school. Even when they made out, every move seemed mechanical, planned. They kissed because they were a couple and that's what they were supposed to do. 

Tristan's tongue probed insistently against hers and she responded, their tongues dueling for domination, just like they would when they fought and teeth nipping and teasing, like their banter; light-hearted and laced with fire. _This is what making-out is supposed to be like. _

Then, out of the blue, Tristan hand slipped from her hair, down her shoulder and then down her arm, leaving a trail of goose bumps in their wake. She moaned and arched against him, dizzy.  On their own accord, Rory's hands moved over his shoulder and around his neck, to the knot in his tie, undoing it. His movements became faster and he slid his hands under her, resting on her rear and pushing her pelvis into him. She gasped when she felt his arousal and then tore her mouth away from his. He started planting kisses down the column of her neck, his hands slipping further down her dress-covered thighs.

Alarm bells started ringing in her head. Her body was responding comfortably to Tristan but her mind was screaming at her to stop before things got out of control. A sigh escaped her lips when Tristan placed tiny kisses on her jaw line. Somewhere deep down, she didn't want to stop completely. But it was too fast, too soon. She kissed the side of his face and then whispered in his ear. "Tristan…we have to stop."

His lips brushed against hers before he pulled away, as if someone had yanked him away and threw a bucket of cold water on him. His eyes were wide but darkened with desire and his breathing was ragged. He blinked twice and then quickly sat up. Running a hand through his hair, he made a dismissive gesture looking frustrated and angry. "Rory -"

She sat up slowly, straightening out her dress. "I'm sorry."

He looked at her bewildered. "You're sorry?"

"I didn't mean to…I was just thinking…I didn't want to pull away," she fumbled. How was she supposed to tell him that if they hadn't stopped she feared that they would've been in too deep to stop later? How could she explain that she _wanted _him in the exact same way he wanted her?

"No, no," he said stopping with her another gesture of his hand. "I shouldn't have gone that far."

"We both went that far," she reminded him. Before she could say anything else there was knock on the door. Her eyes widened and she looked at him. How could she have forgotten that her grandparents, her parents and a very-protective Luke were downstairs? Trembling, she answered. "Who is it?"

"Miss Rory?" Beatrice called out. "Mrs. Gilmore is waiting for you and Mr. DuGrey in the dining hall. Dessert is being served." 

"Okay, we're coming," she answered. Mortified, she looked at him. "Beatrice is probably thinking all sorts of things. What will my family think?"

"Are you kidding me?" he joked and straightened his tie. "You're their angel child. They wouldn't even suspect." 

She threw a pillow at him and slid off the bed, to smooth down her hair in the mirror. Over her shoulder she gave him a pointed look and a cheeky grin. "Yeah well, under the influence of the right kind of being - even angels fall." 

~*~ ~*~ ~*~ 

Sex.

There was that word again. Rory wasn't sure if someone up there was trying to send her a message or something, but it seemed like ever since last night, everything she saw and heard was in some way related to that word.

Right now _Friends_ Phoebe was telling Joey about the guy that just wouldn't give it up, and was making it increasingly difficult for Rory to focus on the show, and not on the word that had been bugging her since dessert last night. 

It wasn't like she hadn't thought about sex. She was a teenager. Hormones. Peer pressure. All those movies, TV shows and clichés. It was everywhere. It was hard _not_ to think about it. 

But she'd never actually thought about it so much. It had always been a word mentioned in passing, in discussions, shows or those annoying porn advertisements that popped up on the computer when she was accessing the Internet. Miss Patty when she was regaling someone about one of her many husbands. She heard Louise and Madeline talk about who'd done it with whom in the Chilton gossip mill. She knew that her mother was having sex – on a regular basis with her boyfriend.

"Oh God," she muttered to the quiet house. "I'm thinking about my mother and Luke having sex. What's wrong with me?"

Turning off the TV, she stood up and stretched. She needed to her mind of sex and the reason she was obsessing about it. _Think about something that isn't sexy at all. Headmaster Charleston. Chilton. Homework. That's it! Do homework! _

She walked to her room, hauled her bag to the desk and took out her physics textbook. When she pulled her chair out from the desk, she noticed the blazer from her uniform lying on the chair. She picked it up and thought to herself, _Tristan really looks good in his uniform. Especially when he's wearing the blazer…damn it! I can't even stop thinking about him and last night and…_

Fed up with her brain for following one line of thought all day, she dropped her blazer on to the chair and walked over to her bed, falling down on it, dramatically. It was useless. Even trying to do something as boring as homework was going to remind of her of the night before. Tristan had rooted himself nicely in her thoughts. Jerk. 

She rolled over and turned on the radio on her side table, hoping that music would soothe her frenzy and frantic state of mind like it usually did. Guitar riffs filled the air and incredibly sensual lyrics filled the air. 

_If I could have just a taste of you  
would I be addicted?  
If I could have just a touch of you  
could I tear myself away?_

She groaned and buried her face in her pillows. She needed help.


	21. Chapter 21: Word Gets Around

Chapter 21: Word Gets Around

"Hey T-man," a familiar voice greeted Tristan, first thing Monday morning. He gritted his teeth and was ready to tell Brett Thompson not to call him that but the other boy continued quickly. "I heard something interesting just now."

"Oh yeah?" Tristan feigned interest as he shoved a few books into his locker and jammed a pencil behind his ear.

"About you."

"Pray tell," he deadpanned, distracted by the amount of crumpled paper that had accumulated in his locker since the first day of school. _I really need to get organized. _He reached up to shut the door of his locker and stubbed his thumb against the hinges. He swore softly and then turned around, blinked and remembered that Brett was still there. 

"You done, man?" the brunet asked amused. Brett leaned against the nearby locker and continued. "Anyway, I heard that you finally landed that Gilmore chick."

His eyes narrowed immediately. "Landed?"

"Yeah," he answered with a little chuckle. "I know you've been outta the game for quite some time but you do remember what that expression means, right? You and Rory Gilmore – getting it on." 

"Where did you hear that?" Keeping his voice dangerously calm, Tristan took a step closer to Brett, who immediately straightened up and looked a little fearful. 

"Well," he almost stuttered. "Word gets around. You know how it is at Chilton."

He sighed inwardly. He knew all too well how rumors spread through Chilton. He had started a couple of atrocious ones himself. Normally, he didn't mind the idle chatter and gossip that he generated when it came to dating. In fact, he would brag to his friends about which girl he'd felt up and he'd embellish the truth about whom he'd slept with and how it'd been. 

But this time, it was different.

It was about her. It mattered.

"Brett, I need you to do me a favor," he said, quickly deciding on the best course of action. It was still early in the day and if the rumor had just started to spread, it could be stopped before she heard it. 

"Sure, anything for the T-man," the other boy said, trying to dispel the tension.

"I need you to stop the rumor. I don't care how, I just need you to stop it."

Brett's brows drew together, as if he were trying to understand why Tristan needed him to do it but then he just nodded. "I could say that it was a lie. And that I talked to you and it never happened."

He nodded. "Perfect." 

Brett patted him on the back and hurried away, probably looking for someone who had ways to get the new word about Tristan DuGrey around. 

Relieved that he had avoided a potential landmine, Tristan grabbed the book he needed for his first period class and headed over to Rory's locker. Paris was the only one standing there, unloading her books in the neighboring locker. Smiling slightly at the sight of her fast and furious movements, Tristan approached her with a smirk.  "Hey there, Paris."

She looked at him through dangerously lowered lashes. "Not now, DuGrey." 

"Bad morning?" he inquired and leaned against Rory's locker. "How's Jess?"

"You're a real riot this morning, Tristan. Really, you are. Tell me does Rory find that particular brand of humor amusing or annoying?" she spat at him.

"She finds it irresistible," he answered with a cocky grin. 

Paris slammed her locker shut. "The girl is obviously deluded."

"Obviously," Tristan agreed gravely. Then he smiled at her delightfully when he saw a stack of notes in her hand. "Can I borrow your physics notes?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because I'll never see them again."

"That's why you make copies, darling," he replied smoothly and plucked them out of her hand, ignoring her glare of protest. "Thank you, you're a lifesaver."

"And you're really getting on my nerves."

"It's all part of his charm," Rory provided as she approached them, looking tired and desperately in need of coffee. But she managed to smile at him brightly. "Hey you."

Even though he was grateful that she was late and would probably miss hearing about the rumor, he decided to play it cool and not give any passer-by fodder to put into the gossip mill again. When she lifted her face up for a kiss (he liked that it had become a natural reaction on her part) he simply brushed his lips against the corner of her mouth. He grinned when disdain darted briefly across her features. 

"Well, I'd like to stay for _Happy Hour_ but I need to get to class," Paris said sarcastically.

She left before either of them could utter a word but in her place, Madeline came flitting across the hall, waving two envelopes in her hand and then extending one to him and Rory. "Hey guys. Here ya go." 

"What's this?" Rory asked brow arched.

"An invitation to my annual my-parents-are-away-so-let's-party party," Madeline informed them with a bright smile. "I have one every year. Well every year since freshman year. But I didn't have one last year…anyway, you two will come right?"

"Of course," Tristan offered and looked at Rory with a leering grin. "Your parties are always memorable."

He got the satisfaction of seeing her blush and meet his gaze with a small, half smile before she nodded in the black-haired girls' direction. "I'll be there."

"Great," Madeline said and scampered off. 

"Can I get to my locker?" she asked immediately, turning to him. When he didn't move she rolled her eyes. "Tris-tan!"

God, he loved how she said his name. Not wanting to draw more attention to them, he stepped aside and let her unload. "How was your weekend?"

"Oh, you know," she replied with a little nervous giggle. "Good. Fine. Normal. Unlike you, I suppose. You on the other hand were so busy that you didn't even called."

"I had to spend time with Sean." He was glad that the locker door was hiding his face from her. Okay, so he wasn't telling her the whole truth. He had been avoiding her – he just wasn't sure how to act around her after that night on her bed in her grandparents' house. He wasn't sure what she was feeling. "I meant to call."

"I understand," she dismissed it with her hand and shut her locker. The bell rang, signaling that they were late. Her eyes widened. "Damn, this is the second time! I have to go. I'll see you later?"

"Of course," he called after her as she dashed away. A handful of students were milling around and he watched in boredom. He sighed, pushed off the locker and wandered to his first class, mentally preparing himself for the day ahead.

~*~ ~*~ ~*~

_Okay this is getting weird_, Rory thought as a blond girl that she didn't even know stared at her and them whispered something to her red-haired companion. It wasn't the first something like this had happened. All day, people were staring at her, whispering behind her and even calling her names that they thought she couldn't hear. At lunch, she sat alone until of course, Paris joined her to discuss something about _The Franklin_. 

Frustrated and confused, Rory ducked into the girls' bathroom and was relieved to find it empty. She put her bag on the floor and then leaned over the sink, turned on tap and splashed some cold water onto her face. She grabbed a paper towel and dabbed her face dry before staring at her reflection in the mirror.

The weekend had been a tiring one for her. She had a constant feeling of restlessness, of unease and major frustration – of the sexual kind. She had never thought of sex and the repercussions of it more than she the past weekend. And to top it all off, Tristan hadn't called and when she called him, he was never there. 

And now, she was apparently the topic of conversation in the Chilton gossip circle.

When she heard the door creak open, she grabbed her book bag and rushed into a stall at the end of the bathroom.

"It was a great movie," a girl with a high-pitched voice started to gush. "Josh Lucas's eyes are to die for."

"Blue and endless," a girl with a deeper voice agreed and Rory immediately recognized her as Summer. The girl's tone took on a wistful note. "Reminds me of a certain guy I used to date."

"Tristan DuGrey," two girls chorused knowingly, then burst into giggles causing Rory to roll her eyes. 

"Speaking of whom," a third girl mentioned and Rory could imagine she was twirling her hair. "Did you hear what he told Brett Thompson?"

"Why is he even hanging around _that_ loser?" 

"That's _so_ not the point."

"But Amy does have a point, Janet," Summer piped in. "He has seemed to developed an affinity for losers. He's ga-ga over Rory Gilmore."

"Bite me," Rory muttered softly from her place.

"That's the point," Janet stated impatiently. "Tristan told Brett that there is no…you know, sex. Apparently, Rory won't put out."

Rory's cheeks flushed in mortification as her heart plummeted to her stomach and her eyes widened. 

"Interesting," Summer said. "I never understood what he saw in her anyway. This only proves what I knew all along. I know Tristan and he may think that there's something more to his attraction to Rory Gilmore but when it comes down to it – he's trying to get her into bed. He's only interested in her for one thing and once he realizes that she's a prude, he'll drop her like a hot potato."

The other girls voice their agreement and then, she heard the door open again and the three of them leave, talking about another movie, another guy. 

Swallowing the lump that rose in her throat, Rory bit her bottom lip, collected her bag from the floor beside her feet and slung it over her shoulder. _He wouldn't say something like that, _she said to herself as she exited the stall. _He's not like that. He would never just want to get me into bed…_

Her memory chose that moment to remind her of all the evidence that pointed to it.

_"What can I say? You're irresistible to me, Mary. Besides, I have a mission statement. I know what I want and I'm going for it. Tristan DuGrey always gets what he wants."_

_ "What do you want?"_

_"You."_ __

Holding back tears, she left the bathroom and rushed to her locker, hoping to make it to her last period class without running into anybody who could make the situation worse. 

The period couldn't finish soon enough for her.

While Mrs. Armstrong continued her long-winded speech on the wonders of Socrates' _Oedipus_, Rory stared at her copy of the work, mind wandering and heart hammering. Then, she noticed a slip of paper protruding from her notebook. She pulled it out and was greeted by Tristan's familiar handwriting – the lazy, careless scrawl. 

_Mary,_

_I'm cutting my last class and I knew I wouldn't see you until then so I slipped this note in your book during lunch. You were too engrossed with Paris to notice me. I'll see you tonight at 7. For homework. Or something like it._

_That sounds convincing enough._

_Tristan _

When the bell finally rang, she quickly collected her notebooks, rushed out of the class, bypassed her locker and headed straight for the exit in hopes of catching the earliest bus back to Stars Hollow.

She needed her mother.  


	22. Chapter 22: See What You Want To

Chapter 22: See What You Want To

"And I can't believe I was so stupid!" Rory exclaimed to Lane, as the two girls sat on her bed, later that day. "I knew that Tristan was bad news. I did. That's why I rejected all his advances sophomore year. But then he came back, he was kinda different and he said that he wanted me…and I forgot why I stayed away from him in the first place."

"You were swept away, is all," Lane sympathized and put a comforting hand on Rory's. "And Tristan's cute and charming…you're not stupid."

"I really wanted to believe he'd changed." She closed her eyes, trying not to cry in front of Lane. "I can't be that gullible, right? And I don't think anyone can lie that well. There has to be another explanation."

"Maybe," Lane conceded and patted her friend's hand. "You really like him, don't you?"

Rory hugged a pillow to her chest and then looked at Lane with a wry smile. "It's funny because I really didn't like him at first. I mean, I guess I was always attracted to him physically, you know?"

"You do have a pulse." 

"And he does that whole leaning thing."

Lane cleared her throat. "Uh, leaning thing?"

"Yeah, you know…" Rory said with a small, sheepish smile. "Remember the movie, _While You Were Sleeping_?"

Her best friend nodded. "Good movie. Somewhat bad casting for the coma guy, though."

"Anyway, Jack tells Lucy that leaning is different from just hugging. _Leaning_ involves bodies…and wanting and accepting. It's very…sensual apparently."

Lane pondered this for a minute. "So Tristan leans and all of a sudden it's bad?"

"Yes! It's bad! Because this was the first time I thought so seriously of having…" she trailed off and flushed slightly, burrowing her face in the pillow and the last word came out muffled. "Sex." 

Lane's eyes widened and she pushed up her glasses a little. "Wow. When and how did this happen and why wasn't I informed sooner?"

Rory fell back on her bed and threw her arm over her eyes. "It started at my grandparents' house."

"That's just so…forbidden." Rory didn't have to lift her arm off her eyes to know Lane was grinning.

"We started making out on my bed and it was suddenly really hot and…well we stopped before anything major happened but after that, I couldn't stop thinking about him, about it…about doing more." she explained and then let out a sigh.

"Naturally," Lane replied and the giggled gleefully. "I feel like I'm listening to the plotline of a WB teen drama!"

"Glad to know my life is so entertaining."

"You'll figure it out, Rory," Lane stated with a warm smile. She tugged on Rory's arms, pulling her up into an upright position. She reached over and then gave her a quick hug. "Just feel it out, okay? Talk to him – ask him directly if he said those things and then make a decision."

Over her friend's comforting shoulder, Rory smiled. "When did you become Love Guru extraordinaire?" 

"I always have been. You just haven't been paying attention," Lane joked as she slid off Rory's bed. She patted her hair down and frowned regretfully. "I want to stay longer and protect you or something when he shows up but my mother wants me home in five minutes."

"Go ahead. I'll deal."

As Lane rushed out the door, Rory heard the soft sound of tires on gravel and felt nervousness quell in her stomach and spread through her. She hated confrontations – and maybe that was why she found herself in so many of them throughout her life. She had told Lane she could deal with Tristan, but she knew that if he actually owned up to spreading the rumors then she wouldn't be able to deal with him _well_.

When the doorbell rang, she composed herself and opened the door hoping to look unaffected. But as she came face to face with him and gave him a quick once over, she felt all her composure and indifference melt away. He wore a blue shirt that stretched over the muscles of his biceps and across his chest like second skin and his hair was mussed up more than usual looking like he had ran his fingers through it, repeatedly. She curled her hand around the doorknob to keep from reaching out and doing the same. 

Then he smiled and she felt her knees give way. The door swung slightly under the pressure she was applying.

"Hey gorgeous," he greeted her, the effect he had on her not going unnoticed by him. His blue eyes sparkled with knowing laughter and that seemed to snap her out of her puddle of mush. He lifted his hands and she realized for the first time that he was carrying two big brown bags with the word _Luigi's_ inscribed on the front. "I come bearing food." 

She let him in wordlessly and then followed him into the kitchen. As he placed the bags on the table she arched an inquisitive eyebrow. "I thought you wanted to study."

His grin was cheeky. "You obviously don't know me that well."

She didn't find it amusing so she crossed her arms over her chest. "You lied."

His forehead creased and he lifted his hand and made an inch with his thumb and forefinger. "A little, tiny fib. No one got hurt."

"And that makes it okay?" she asked, anger seeping through her and into her tone of voice. 

He turned to her completely, taken aback. "Maybe not but it does make it less important. What's going on, Mary?" 

He really picked a bad time to use that nickname. She ignored his question. Hands on hips and eyes narrowed dangerously in his direction, she ranted.  "It all starts with a tiny, white lie! Then all of a sudden, you don't know what you're saying or doing and you're making up a dozen other lies to cover up the small one and they accumulate over time and make you one big liar. And you keep on lying until you don't know a lie from the truth and you hurt someone really badly because they liked you and you lied to them and ruined everything."

"Whoa, whoa!" Tristan stated surprised as he took a step towards her. He placed his hands on shoulders. "Calm down, Sir Walter. I am completely lost. Tell me what's going on, please."

She felt heat rush to her cheeks and her eyes dampen. "I heard a rumor in school today."

The look on his face gave it all away. It went from amused concern to guilt in less than a second. When his voice came out, it was rough and unsure. "About what?"

"Don't even try to insult my intelligence, Tristan!" She was too upset to look at him anymore so she closed her eyes and forced back tears. "I can't believe I trusted you."

"I don't know what went wrong," he said as if he hadn't heard her and took his hands off her shoulders. She opened her eyes to look at him curiously and he stepped away, looking apologetic. "Those people are stupid, Rory. They're malicious and pathetic."

"_Those_ people?" she screeched, not believing his gall. "Not those people, Tristan. _You_. There's no difference at all."

"What?" he said, looking completely surprised and insulted. "What are you saying?"

Angry, hurt and completely destroyed she met his gaze evenly. "Dating you was a mistake."

~*~ ~*~ ~*~ 

He felt like he had been slapped in the face. 

Too confused to be angry or hurt, he managed to keep his voice calm as he addressed her. "I need a reason."

"A reason for what?" she asked, irritated. 

"For why all of a sudden, you think that dating me is a mistake."

She threw her hands up in the air, in a defeated gesture. "Because you lied! You told the whole school that I was a prude because I wouldn't sleep with you."

The pieces of the puzzle fell into place and he shook his head, holding back his own anger. He couldn't believe his words had been twisted so out of context. But he should have known that at Chilton, rumors could be convoluted into anything. Bu the worse part was that actually thought that he'd ever say something like that about her. When he looked at her, he could finally see the hurt she was covering up with anger. "I didn't say that."

"I heard your ex-girlfriend, Summer talking about it like she knew everything!" Rory protested. 

"And you believed her?" he asked incredulously.

She fixed him with a glare. "I have no reason not to."

Those words snapped the control on his anger. "How about the fact that I didn't say anything about you, Rory. How about the fact that there was a rumor spreading through school that we _had_ slept together and I had Brett try and put a stop to it? Or how about the fact that I've been trying my hardest not to screw this relationship up? Is that reason enough?"

She looked shocked and embarrassed. "I didn - "

He cut her off and took a step closer to her. "Not enough? Well how about the fact you actually agreed to go out with me – and you had fun. Maybe you should've trusted me because there's a part of you that's attracted to me too…a part that you actually like." The understanding hit him like a freight train. He looked down at her, into her eyes and nodded slowly. "Or maybe this isn't about me. Maybe it's about you and the fact that you're scared." 

"Scared?" Her voice wavered.

"Yeah. Scared that you actually feel something for me," he stated, suddenly not as angry as he was before. He stepped away from her and ran a hand through his hair. "Or maybe that's just wishful thinking on my part."

"Tristan, that's not - "

He lifted a hand to silence her and she closed her mouth and set it in a frown. A mirthless chuckle escaped his lips. "You accuse me of lying and you can't even be truthful with yourself."

Her frown deepened. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Do you even know what you do to me?" he asked rhetorically. "One minute you can hardly stand me and the next you're being civil. One minute we're making out on your bed and the next you're accusing me of doing something you should know I never would. It's a constant roller coaster and I seem to forget that I need to get off."

Her eyes widened. "Are you saying that you don't…?"

Tristan sighed, wondering if she really was clueless. He stepped away from her and spread his arms out in a dramatic gesture. "This isn't about me. It's about you. Make up your mind, Rory."

"I'm lost."

"Yeah, I figured. I'll spell it out for you," he answered and stepped closer to her. "I know what I want. You know what I want. Hell, everyone knows what I want. So the question is - what do _you_ want?"

She looked stumped, as if he had hit on something too close to the truth. She opened her mouth to say something, shook her head a little and then closed it again. She lifted her gaze to his and he could see that she was confused. "I don't know."

"Figure out what you want, Rory. And then fill me in on it." Without another word, he turned away from her and headed out the back door – hoping she would stop him.

She didn't. 


	23. Chapter 23: Free Advice

**Author's Ramblings**: *sighs* I know it's been a while but what can I say? I've been busy. Anyway, I just wanted to say thank you to everyone who's reading this and has left me such wonderful feedback. Special thanks to Chris, Priya and Susie for your support and encouragement.

Chapter 23: Free Advice

"I thought I'd find you here," Rory said as she sat down beside Jess on the bridge, Indian style. His feet were dangling on the edge just above the water, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his denim jacket and a cigarette in his mouth. She reached over and yanked it out stubbing it on the ground beside her. "Those things will kill you."

"So will life," he joked, smiling half-heartedly. He glanced up at her sideways, making her self-conscious enough to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. But, she avoided meeting his gaze. He had the uncanny knack for understanding what was bothering her without her saying a thing but just by looking in her eyes. "What gives?"

She played with the zipper of her jacket. "Nothing."

"Then you just wandered here looking for me because you miss the pleasure of my company?" he asked sarcastically.

She nodded, smiling a little. "Contrary to popular and somewhat skewered belief, you're not as bad as people think you are. In fact, once you crack the surface you're pretty much…ordinary."

"Oh yeah?"

She grinned. "Yeah."

They sat in silence for a while, both of them lost in their own thoughts. It was comfortable for her to just sit there and know that Jess was there and that he was, apparently, also troubled. It made her feel like she wasn't the only one so messed up. It made her feel less alone. 

He was the first one to break the silence. "So really, what's the matter?"

She took a breath and closed her eyes. "Tristan." 

"Ah." She didn't have to open her eyes to know that he was smiling a little; the tone in his voice gave that away. "What did DuGrey do this time?" 

She heaved a sigh, ran a hand through her hair and opened her eyes. "I'm not sure if he actually did anything wrong. He might have actually did something good which makes me the bad guy for reacting the way I did…and it's basically just a big mess."

"So what? Have you talked to him?"

She furrowed her brows. "Not talked per se..."

"It's a yes or no question."

"Then, no." She looked at him with a sheepish grin and he raised his eyebrows in a that's-your-problem look. "Well I've been busy. With applications and homework. This week just started off crappy. I've been busy."

"You said that already. Yeah, I'd say that you've been busy _avoiding_ him." 

"Look who's talking," she scoffed at him, immediately becoming defensive. "When was the last time you sought out your mother to talk to her, huh?"

"As a matter of fact, I was just talking to her," he stated smugly.

"Talking or shouting?" she countered, brow raised. 

His self-satisfied smile faltered. "Well it started out with talking…then we shouted."  

"I'm sorry."

He shrugged and looked into the water below them. "Not your fault. It's been like this for years so I've gotten used to it." 

She folded her hands on her lap and shook her head slightly, studying his face. "I don't buy that." When he looked up at her she continued. "I mean it shouldn't be like that with family. You shouldn't get used to fighting with them. I've seen my mother do it and all it's brought her in the end is regret…your mom - she's family. That has to mean something."

"Yeah right," he answered and she could detect the anger in his tone. "And to my mom that means sending your son away from his home to a place he didn't like, to live with a person he barely knew. That's her screwed up perspective on family, Rory."

"So you're just going to adopt the same if-I-can't-deal-with-it-I-don't attitude and be done with it?" she asked, crossing her arms over her chest.

He shrugged again. "You're doing the same with Tristan."

Cornered, her eyes widened and she stuttered a bit. "I told you. I've been busy. Really! I have." She sighed as she realized that he wasn't buying it and she couldn't pretend anymore either. "Tristan DuGrey is not the easiest person to talk to."

"Well, I'm thinking that this conversation you're going to have is not going to be easy at all and from what you told me it looks like he's not coming to you any time soon. The ball is in your court, Ror."

"I hate that expression," she muttered as she uncrossed her legs and dangled them off the edge of the bride, like Jess. The two sat in silence again staring at their reflections in the water. She contemplated what he said and realized that if she wanted to keep seeing Tristan then she'd have to speak to him soon before he got the idea that she wasn't interested. It was going to be hard telling him that she wanted him without sounding like a complete moron. "Hey Jess?"

"Yeah?"

"When we were, you know…" she trailed off to give him a sideways glance and gauge his reaction. "When you and I were -"

"Together?" he asked knowingly.

"Yes, when we were together did you ever think that we'd…" she started blushing and he was smirking. She couldn't bring herself to say the words but tried again, anyway. "Did you ever think about me and you having…you know…?" 

A hint of a smile remained as he locked his gaze with hers and answered, "yeah, I did."

She felt her cheeks grow hot again and managed to smile at him. "Oh. I'm flattered."

He let out a short laugh and then studied her face closely in that way of his that made her feel like he could see actually see what was going on in her mind. She shifted uncomfortably. The corner of his lips twitched and she saw understanding dawn in his eyes. "Oh! That's what this is about between you and Tristan. So the two of you are doing the, you know…"

She gasped at his forwardness, blushed deeper and hit him on the arm. "That…_that_…is none of your business."  

He flashed her another meaningful grin. "Oh yeah. Either that or you're seriously considering it."

"You're such a guy." Rory wrapped her jacket tighter around her body and looked at him, disgusted. "Are _you_ sleeping with Paris?"

"Not yet," he leered and then started laughing when she threw him another appalled look. He leaned over and wrapped an arm around her shoulder, pulling her closer to him. "Talk to DuGrey whenever you get that jumble in your head sorted out and that will be the only way to deal with this situation. Because he's a guy and guys don't like waiting for a very long time for an answer concerning this particular subject. Believe me, I should know."

She rested her head on his shoulder and smiled before lifting it up again a few minutes later and smiling widely at him. "I have to go home before my mom comes looking for me as soon as she gets bored of watching the crappy season of _Dawson's Creek_."

"Okay."

"I'd kiss you but you have nicotine breath," she teased. 

He grinned at her, bringing his face closer to hers. "Kiss me, anyway."

She nodded, touched her mouth to his in a friendly kiss and then stood up before he could deepen it, like she knew he would – just to tease her. "Goodnight Mariano."

"G'night _Mary_." 

She could hear him laughing as she walked away.

~*~ ~*~ ~*~ 

Tristan stepped out of the shower a towel riding loosely on his hips. A smaller towel was in his hand as he feverishly dried his hair. The phone near his bed rang and he walked over to pick it up. As soon as he did, the towel at his waist dropped to the floor. He looked down, shrugged and rested the receiver between his shoulder and ear. "Hello?"

"What are you wearing?" a familiar voice joked from the other end.

Tristan grinned. "Nothing at the moment."

"Dude," Joe Walker stated in disdain. "That's sick."

"You're the one who asked," he replied running the small towel through his hair once more before throwing it carelessly on the bed behind him.

"Yeah well, I didn't need a mental image of you in the buff."

"So what do I owe the pleasure of this phone call?" 

"Karen Thompson."

Tristan's brows furrowed as he racked his brain for a description of the girl. "Uh, blonde, blue eyes, great legs and aspires to become an artist but with a body like hers I'd say she has a better chance of being a model."

"The one and the same," Joey answered, his tone proud. "Guess who's going out with her tonight."

"Well I'm happy for you buddy," Tristan answered as he rummaged through his underwear drawer looking for his favorite pair of boxers. "With the amount of time and energy you spent chasing her, I say you deserve it."

"Well thank you for that, King Tristan," his friend stated sarcastically. "And for the record: I do not chase women. They come to me naturally. Like moths to a flame."

"Oh yeah. You're a regular Casanova. Girls dig that whole grungy, I-rolled-out-of-bed-and-slicked-my-hair-back, surfer look."

"I don't know what you're talking about man," Joe replied with amused derision. "At least I have a date for tonight. You're still at home, naked – might I add, doing Lord knows what…shouldn't you be out _chasing_ Rory?"

Tristan slid into his boxers and then a pair of jeans and switched the phone from ear to another. "I'm through chasing a girl that obviously doesn't want to be chased. Not that I would ever resort to chasing any girl."

Joe ignored the last remark and sighed, "what happened now?"

He spent the next five minutes explaining the story for the second time that week, stopping once to put on his shirt and finished with what he told Rory at her house earlier that week. "She hasn't talked to me all week."

"Have you tried talking to her?"

"I'm not going to do that, Joe. She's going to have to come to me," he answered as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "It's her decision."

"Yeah, I guess it is."

Tristan's brows shot up in surprise. "What? No sagely advice?"

"As if you ever follow it," Joe scoffed and Tristan could hear some faint shuffling in the background. "Look dude, I know this girl has some issues when it comes to you so I think the only person who can work through them right now is her. So for once in your life, DuGrey, you did something right."

"Gee thanks." 

"I have to say one thing, though."

"I knew it."

"Don't get impatient," he advised Tristan as if talking to a small child. "You've been into her since you were sixteen but she just broke it off with her boyfriend and is already plunging into a relationship with you…that's gotta be scary. Believe me, I should know. So don't be impatient. It's going to take her time to catch up to two years of feelings, okay?" 

"Yeah okay." The two friends talked for a few more minutes before hanging up.

Joe's explanation for Rory's behavior sounded almost logical to Tristan. Why hadn't he considered that starting a relationship with so soon after her break up with Dean was going to be tough? _Because you were impatient, _he chided himself_. _An unwanted thought crept into his head: _what if I'm just the rebound guy? _He'd seen it happen to guys and girls before and it was never pretty. Especially when the person who was being used as the rebound was already too deep into the relationship. 

He stood in front of his dresser, ran a comb through his hair – once, and stared at himself in the mirror. He had never been a rebound guy. Tristan DuGrey was the guy girls cried over and then used other guys to get over. "Talk about karma," he mumbled to himself as he turned away from the mirror and headed to the door. 

There was only one way to find out where he stood with Rory: to talk to her. It was Friday and Madeline's party was five minutes away. He just wished she'd be there.

The patience that Joe warned him about was wearing thin.


	24. Chapter 24: This Old Piano

**Dedication: **To Christine, my partner in crime, for her special day. HAPPY 18th BIRTHDAY!

## 

**Chapter 24: This Old Piano**

"So this party," Jess said as he settled against the passenger seat of Lorelai's Jeep. "It's basically going to be a bunch of snobby Chilton students?"

"Pretty much," Rory answered, keeping her eyes on the road. Lane sat in the back, all talked out about her two consecutive dates with Henry. "Are you nervous?"

Lane scoffed from the backseat and Jess looked at her scathingly. He turned to Rory and shrugged. "Who do you think you're talking to?"

"Right," she replied with an apologetic smile as she turned into Madeline's street. "I forgot for a second. Here we are."

Jess remained nonchalant as he took in the massive mansion looming in front of them. "It's very impressive."

"I think it's beautiful," she returned as she turned off the ignition. "We're going to have to walk up to the house."

"I don't think my legs can take it!" Jess joked, grabbing his knees for effect. Lane shot him an irritated look but he merely smirked. "Sorry, am I taking away from your Henry-time? I do apologize."

"Why is he here again?" Lane asked as the trio walked past cars and other teenagers on their way to the party. "I mean, couldn't we have left him to fend for himself? Maybe he would have hitch-hiked and been killed by some psycho."

"Paris would have been disappointed. You don't want to be dealing with a brassed off Paris," Rory reminded her, giving Jess a syrupy smile. "Although I am sure Jess can find a way to calm her down." 

He ignored her last comment and turned to Lane. "Chill out, Kim. I won't be anywhere near you tonight."

"You better remember that. You're here as Rory's friend and Paris' date. The two of us shouldn't be linked at all."

"Wouldn't wanna sully your reputation."

On another occasion, she would have rolled her eyes at the bickering, and would have intervened. Tonight, she welcomed it. It was an amusing and desperately needed distraction. It gave her a chance to smile and settle the butterflies in her stomach at the prospect of seeing Tristan tonight and having that heart-to-heart with him. She wondered if he would listen to her at all or just rebuff her. 

She cringed at the thought of him coming with a date.

The door was wide open, as kids were piling in with their dates and expensive clothes to show off and Rory followed them, encouraging her friends not to be so apprehensive. As soon as they entered, Madeline ran up to greet them. "Rory! You made it! I thought you wouldn't come!"

"I promised I would." She turned to her friends, and then back to Madeline for introduction. "You remember Lane. And this is Jess."

"Hey Lane," the dark-haired girl said cheerfully as Louise and Paris appeared by her side. "Hi Jess!"

"So you're Jess." Louise looked at him like a tiger sizing its prey. 

"Yes, I think we established that," Jess replied, raising an eyebrow in her direction. "You must be Louise."

She seemed pleased with that and beamed at him, although she was regarding him with a seductive gleam in here eyes. Paris, who Rory thought looked really good in those tight fitting jeans and shirt, was smiling at Jess, flushed. Lane nudged Rory and she nudged her back, the two of them giggling inwardly. After a few pleasantries, Madeline and Louise wandered off, saying that they wanted to dance. Lane spotted Henry and scampered off to greet him.

"You know," Rory told Jess with a smile. "They're actually going to go spread the word about you. I bet that in a couple of minutes, you'll be surrounded by hordes of my fellow classmates who are dying to know who you are and what you do and why exactly Paris is so fond of you."

Paris blushed a little before addressing him. "Sorry about Louise. She can - " 

"Give Dominique Swain a run for her money," Jess finished for her, grinning.

Rory grinned. "So that's who she reminds me of. I knew it was someone like that. And to think after all these years..." Paris and Jess smiled politely, as if tolerating her presence but just waiting until she left so that they could be alone. She sighed inwardly. _Okay, I can't put off the inevitable. _"Hey Paris, is…do you know where…?"

"He wandered off somewhere a couple of minutes ago," she replied and smiled knowingly. "He's not here with anyone. I asked him if he was looking for you but he said, 'If she wants to see me, she'll know where to look'."

"Oh. Thanks. You two have fun."

Rory wandered through the throng of teenagers, knowing exactly where she was headed but taking her time to get there – she needed to gather her wits, settle her nerves, revise the speech she had planned. 

She remembered the way to the room where the Lynns kept their grand piano and as she neared it, she could hear the sound of music (just barely due to the song blaring through the speakers in the majority of the rooms) and smiled a little. At the doorway, she stopped.

He played the piano. Quite well, in fact. 

She leaned against the doorframe and listened.

~*~ ~*~ ~*~ 

He knew she was standing in the doorway without having to look up. The room was pretty much empty, just like it had been that time almost two years ago. He was there sitting at the piano bench to get away from the music and people. She was there not sure if he wanted her to approach. 

Freaking déjà vu. 

He stopped playing but kept his gaze on the ivory keys of the piano as she moved into the room, her steps tentative at first but determined as she came to stand beside him. This time however, there was no small talk, no nonsense. She got straight to the point. "We need to talk." 

He finally looked up at her, hoping he could keep his cool. She looked lovely. Her blue dress complimented her eyes; her hair was left loose as it framed her heart-shaped face. That was one thing he liked about her the most – she didn't need loads of make-up to look beautiful or to take his breath away. So much for inner cool. 

"I guess we do," he replied to her statement, his tone calm and even a little detached. He saw her take in a deep breath and then wring her hands nervously together before she ran it through her hair and tucked it behind her ear. It was a little amusing that she was so nervous and he was feeling just as nervous but was able to keep it hidden. He raised an eyebrow. "Well?"

Her eyes narrowed in his direction. "You're taking pleasure in my discomfort."

Hit bit back a laugh and shook his head with a solemn expression. "I swear I'm not."

She sighed and scratched her forearm with her index finger like she always did when she was tense. Her expression softened when she smiled and he knew the proverbial ice had broken. All of a sudden, he wasn't so angry with her anymore. In fact, he wanted to forget the last week ever happened and just kiss her again. He shifted to the side of the piano bench. She took the hint and sat down beside him, her legs on the other side. "How have you been?"

Small talk. He sighed. "Busy. Applications, homework, it was my last hour of community service this afternoon. Next time, I'll remember not to crash my father's brand new Buick. Or at least, I'll ask him before I borrow it."

"How'd Sean take it?"

"He was very emotional."

Rory smiled a little. "Will you visit him?"

"I promised I would," he answered with a shrug. "He understood that I wouldn't be around much when I went away to college but I promised to write."

"He looks up to you."

"Poor kid."

"_Lucky_ kid." He looked at her sincere expression and couldn't help but smile. She smiled back before she cleared her throat and started to frown again. "About what happened: the rumor and my major freak out…I'm sorry. I shouldn't have accused you of anything and I know better than to believe things I hear in a girl's bathroom."

"Then why did you believe them?"

"Because it was easier," she replied with an apologetic half-smile. "I just got out of the longest relationship I have had and I know that the spark was gone a long time ago but it still hurt to let him go."

He hated it when she talked about Dean. "What does he have to do with this?"

"Not a whole lot from your view point, I guess." She shook her head as if trying to re-assemble all of her thoughts. "We never used to get along, Tristan. And then you disappear for a year, I go back to my life and when you come back we're suddenly joined at the lip? That really freaked me out."

"It's called changing, Rory. We both grew up and changed," he explained to her. "Can you honestly tell me that sophomore year after I kissed you right here you felt absolutely nothing for me? You say that you never hated me - "

"I didn't hate you," she confirmed. "But we went from barely tolerating each other to making out like crazy in a matter of days. _That's_ what freaked me out. The thing is that I don't even know why I protested so much when you came back."

He couldn't help but grin at that. "And then when you heard the rumors you thought that maybe this thing between us was some lapse of sanity and that I was always the horrible, one-track minded jerk I pretended to be before?"

"When you say it like that it sounds silly." She pouted and then managed a weak smile. "It was easier to make it about you than me. What you said that night at my house was true. It was about what I wanted. I was just taking a cop out when it presented itself. The truth is, I really, really like you."

"Why thank you." He laughed and reached for her hand, twining their fingers together. "You know, I'm pretty popular at Chilton."

"Really? I didn't notice."

He gave her an admonishing look. "And people talk a whole lot about me. If it's not about you, it'll be about someone else. And I don't want it to be about someone else."

She beamed and leaned forward, lowering her voice to a teasing whisper. "Is that you're way of telling me you like me too?"

He chuckled and nodded. "Against my better judgment." 

"How romantic."

"Hey Rory?" he whispered softly, bringing his face closer to hers and his eyes drifting to her lips. Her eyes widened slightly and he heard the catch in her breath. "If I kiss you, will you promise not to run?"

"Depends on how well you kiss."

He was still smiling when he kissed her.


	25. Chapter 25: Spotlight

Chapter 25: Spotlight 

"Well doesn't somebody look rather chipper," Lorelai stated as Rory walked into the kitchen the next morning, in her fluffy pink robe. Her mother sipped on her coffee, eyebrow raised expectantly. "Good night?"

"Very," she replied as she walked over to the cabinet to get herself a mug. She filled it with coffee and joined Lorelai at the table, smiling giddily. "Tristan and I made up. And then spent most of the party dancing and talking - "

"And making out, I'm sure." 

"Yes, there was some of that," she admitted freely, although she felt herself blush. "It seemed like everyone was talking about us. I have never had so many people look at me for so long…well at least not when I'm making a speech or something." 

Lorelai looked surprised. "And you didn't mind?"

"It was weird at first," she replied with a shrug. "But I was too busy concentrating on Tristan to actually care too much."

"Atta girl," she drowned the last of her coffee and went to refill another mug. "So there was quite a bit of drama I missed out on. Sorry, sweetie. I was just so caught up with work and - "

"Avoiding the whole Luke issue," Rory chimed in.

"Smart ass." She sat down across from Rory again, rubbing her temple. "It's kind of complicated but Luke and I work through these things all the time. He'll come around soon enough. But enough about my mini-drama, how does it feel like to be the Queen of Chilton?"

"What?" she said looking at Lorelai as if she were crazy. "I'm not the Queen of Chilton." 

"Honey, you're dating Tristan and I don't wanna sound like a quintessential teen novel but he's one of the most popular kids at that school.  If the two of you are a couple then your days as a wallflower are over." 

The phone rang and as Lorelai went to answer, mumbling about people calling on Saturday morning, Rory pondered about the truth behind her mother's explanation. It was true that Tristan was popular and that she'd have to meet and hang around with people who on any other occasion she would have gladly left alone. 

She didn't know how to handle being popular, even if it was by association. 

~*~ ~*~ ~*~ 

Her mother was proven right, the following Monday. People who Rory didn't know, who she rarely looked at her, were talking to her. No long-winded conversation but just casual 'hellos' and 'what's going ons'.  Janet, the girl who was spreading rumors about her in the bathroom just last week, complimented her hair. 

When she dropped her books in the hallway between two classes, three guys stopped to help her pick them up. 

People suddenly knew her name. 

"Rory," Madeline said coming to her lunch table, looking frantic. "I need to borrow your history notes. I zoned out. Paris said she won't give hers to me." 

"Sure, let me get them for you." Rory dug into her book bag and pulled out her notes. "Hey Madeline, is it just me or are people acting very strange today?" 

"How so?"

Rory leaned forward and lowered her voice, conspiratorially. "Complete strangers are talking to me like I am their friend." 

The brunette smiled knowingly. "You're Tristan DuGrey's girlfriend. It comes with the territory. They all just wanna know you better because he's so into you. It's nothing personal. Believe me, they couldn't care less." 

"How touching."

"Just smile. It works wonders." 

"Thanks." 

As soon as Madeline left, Tristan straddled the chair next to hers and went straight for her lips. A little surprised she gasped and returned the kiss, breaking away before it went too far. She glanced around nervously as people were staring back at her, whispering to their companions. He simply smiled. "Hey."

She smiled shyly and tucked her hair behind her ear. "Hi."

"I missed you at your locker this morning." He picked a chip out of her bag even when she lightly slapped him on the hand. 

"I overslept."

"Dreaming of me, huh?" He gave her a cheeky grin and leaned in again, this time kissing her jaw and making her shudder lightly. For that one pleasant minute, she forgot they were at school. "You smell like vanilla." 

"My mom wants to try out this new body wash," she explained and then gave him a pointed look. "That's what gave me such a good night's sleep."

He leaned in again to kiss her but she moved away, looking around uncomfortably. His brows drew together and she almost missed that flicker of hurt passing through his eyes. "What's wrong?"

"People are looking," she confided.

His lips curved. "Does that bother you?"

She gave him a look. "I am not used to the spotlight. Public displays of affection mean a glaring ooh-look-I-have-a-boyfriend-and-we-can-make-out-wherever-we-want. I'm not that kind of a girl." 

He raised an eyebrow and backed away with a contemplative frown. "I guess we can keep it to a minimum. I am not promising total restriction." 

She grinned widely, gratefully. "I wouldn't dream of it. I'm not used to it, is all. I'm the girl that people usually pass over or miss the first time around."

He scoffed lightly and played with a strand of her hair. He looked at her sincerely, admiration gleaming in his eyes. His voice lowered. "No, you're not. I don't see how anyone can miss seeing you. I never did."

She laughed lightly, a little nervously when she thought her heart skipped a beat. "That's because you're a very perceptive person." 

"A very lucky person," he corrected with another smile. 

Before either of them could say anything else, a bunch of guys surrounded them, sitting down on the chairs along the table. They greeted Tristan and then her, as if they had been friends forever. Tristan started talking to Michael something-or-the-other, while the other guys chattered amongst themselves. 

Rory looked at the book that she had stopped reading when Tristan had shown up and the food in her tray that she wished to enjoy privately. Sighing, she folded her arms on the table and tried to listen to the conversation about football, some kind of problem Bryce Watkins was having with his new car and then, who asked whom out for the weekend.

"So Rory," some blond guy who was sitting beside her asked. Aaron, she recalled. "How was your weekend?"

"Um, pretty good. I read."

"Oh for class?"

"Um no. I was re-reading _The Great Gatsby_."

"For fun?" he asked, looking a little disbelieving. She nodded and he smiled tightly. "Oh. It was a good book. I think." 

"Yes," she replied shortly. 

"So you're coming to practice, right, DuGrey?" some guy asked Tristan just as Rory turned away from Aaron. "You haven't been there to cheer us on in ages. If we can't have you on the team…"

"You were on a team?" Rory asked, bewildered. 

"I used to be," he answered with a shrug. He turned back to the guy who asked the question and shook his head. "I can't. I'm taking Rory home."

"No, you don't have to," she replied automatically as everyone looked at her, almost accusingly. "I mean I can take the bus. Stay, go…have fun."

He reached for her hand, furrowing his brows. "Well, why don't you come with me and then I'll take you home after the game?"

"I'm really not into…" She bit her lip and glanced at everyone's expectant faces. She sighed and then smiled brightly. "Okay sure, I'll stay."

Everyone seemed to be relieved by that and started to talk again, conversations steering back to inane topics. Tristan slipped his arm around her shoulder and smiled at her before returning to attention to one of his friends. She looked around the cafeteria and met Madeline and Louise's gazes. The brunette smiled as if to say 'see?' and the blonde raised her can of soda in a mock salute. 

Rory reached into lifted her own can to her mouth.

~*~ ~*~ ~*~ 

"So you sat through the entire game?" Lane asked as the two friends together in the Kim's kitchen. "He made you sit through it?"

Rory shook her head. "We left after a half an hour."

"Well, that's not bad."

"He was standing to the side of the field yelling to the players like he was the referee or something while I finished my physics homework," she elaborated, looking at her friend pointedly. "It was odd. I felt like, I don't know…what's the word?"

"A trophy girlfriend?" 

Rory sighed. "Yeah. God, is that what I am?"

Lane shook her head sagely. "You're not anything you don't want to be."

"But he was so into being at the game and then having me there so he could drop me off later. He didn't mind that they raided our table and intruded our privacy. I don't know it was weird for me. I've seen it happen to other girls, I never thought I'd be in that position."

"And it was hard to get out of it because you didn't want to hurt his feelings?"

"Yeah."

"That's what happens when you're dating one of the most popular guys in school," Lane reminded her and bit into her apple. She chewed thoughtfully for a minute and then swallowed. "What did you guys do when he dropped you off?"

Rory felt herself blush. "What do you mean?"

Lane giggled. "Okay, so you made out. See? That's not bad at all."

"We didn't _just_ make out," she replied with a scoff. "We watched re-runs of _The Cosby Show _and ate popcorn."

"Again, normal couple behavior."

Rory shrugged. "I don't know. I didn't think it would be like this with him."

"What did you expect? Another Dean? Another Jess?" Lane asked rhetorically. "You know that's not going to happen."

"Of course I do. I don't expect him to be like Dean or Jess." 

She sighed. Hell, she wasn't even sure if what she was saying made any sense. She just wasn't sure if she was ready to be Tristan DuGrey's girlfriend and for everything that came with the title. 


	26. Chapter 26: The Real Thing

Chapter 26: The Real Thing 

Page seventeen. Rory sighed. She had read seventeen pages of _The Virgin Suicides _and still, Tristan hadn't said a word to her. It was late Saturday afternoon and they were sitting on the couch in her living room after having lunch in a restaurant in Hartford. Because Lorelai had been home, the two of them kept a safe distance from each other on the couch and watched _The Fresh Prince of Bel Air _reruns. She quickly got bored and picked up her novel while Lorelai and Tristan chatted about the sitcom's pros and cons. Her mother finally left and he picked up a magazine and flipped idly through the pages.

She put down the book, glared at him and tersely asked, "Anything interesting in there?"

"Nope," he replied, glancing at her briefly. 

"So were you planning on sitting there and being bored all day?" she questioned, agitated. Her suspicions that she was Tristan's 'trophy girl' started to rise in her head again and she shifted uncomfortably on the couch. 

He closed the magazine turned to her completely, looking bewildered. "Of course not. Why would you say that?"

"Because it's been fifteen minutes since my mother left and you been reading that stupid magazine!" she exclaimed, throwing her hands in the air. She stared at the title. _Cosmopolitan_. She looked at him incredulously. "I can't believe you're reading that!"

"I wasn't!" he protested looking scared and concerned at the same time. He shoved the magazine away from him. "I was just looking at the pictures."

She rolled her eyes. "Oh and even that was more interesting that talking to me?"

"What? No! I thought you were reading."

"Because my mother was here." 

He nodded, a little confused. "That's why I didn't say anything. I thought you didn't want any public displays of affection."

"I don't!" she replied and shot off the couch, exasperated. Did he not understand anything? She turned to him, slowly, trying to calm down. "You were supposed to act as if you didn't want her here so she would leave! But you gave her a reason to stay! She only needs a little inclination and she'll stay!"

"It's her house!" he countered, still looking like she had whacked him upside the head without any reason. He stood up and approached her carefully, wary that she might lash out again. If she hadn't been so angry, she would have laughed at the situation they were creating. "Rory, what's the matter? Why did I do?" 

"It's what you didn't do!" she retorted and then cringed when she heard her own words. Her life was turning into a bad teen drama. "We've been sitting on that couch for fifteen minutes and you couldn't think of one thing to say to me."

"That's ridiculous," he scoffed at her and then gave her a charming, mischievous smile. "I was definitely thinking of something we could do together."

"Tristan! I'm serious!" 

He took a step closer, snaked an arm around her waist and tugged her forward. "So am I."

She brought her hands to his chest and pushed away to show him that she was still upset (even though she didn't pull out of his embrace altogether). She met his gaze levelly. "Why do you want to be with me?" 

He blinked twice and looked completely taken aback as the question settled in. "What kind of question is that? You know why."

"No, I don't." 

He loosened his grip on her waist. "What's this about?" 

She sighed, disappointed that he couldn't – or wouldn't, answer her question honestly or straightforwardly. This time, she did step out of his embrace. "This is about why you want to be with me, Tristan. We obviously are not on the same page here."

He looked genuinely shocked. "What? I thought we were fine."

"Exactly." 

His shoulders slumped and then, he took a deep breath as though he was trying to calm himself down. She crossed her arms over her chest and waited for his reply. "Rory, you have to stop being so cryptic."

"I asked you an honest question and you're the one that didn't answer it."

"I thought it was rather obvious," he replied, his tone bordering on sarcastic. 

"What's obvious to me is that we're both heading into this relationship with different ideas in our mind, aren't we?" she replied, still unsure. "I mean let's face it, we're not exactly the poster couple for harmony." 

Now he looked pissed. "What the hell are you talking about?" He took a step forward again and grabbed her shoulders lightly. "Rory, what do you mean?"

She willed back tears and tried to answer him without sounding like she was about to cry. "We're too different."

"We're not that different," he protested lightly. She arched an eyebrow in response and he gave a small conceding laugh. "Okay, we're different. But that's okay. I thought that it was okay."

She met his gaze, steadier this time. "Am I a trophy girlfriend?" 

"What?"

"Tristan! You know what it means."

"Yeah I do. I just didn't think that a thought like that would ever cross your mind," he replied, looking a little hurt. "Of course you're not a trophy girlfriend. Who said that you were?"

She looked away from him, hesitant. "No one did. It's just that, I got drawn into your social circle this week. All your friends are…they're not _my _friends. I don't know I felt like I was with you when you were with them but it was a show for them or something. God, I'm not making any sense."

"Glad to know I'm not the only one who thinks so," he added with a disbelieving smile.

"You were so caught up with them," she clarified, trying to make him understand that her fears were based on something real. "We go to football games and I don't even like sports. I hang around people I don't know and don't particularly like because you do - "

"I never said you had to!" he interrupted as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"But I want to hang out with you," she explained, exasperated. "It feels like if I'm dating you, I'm dating your entire inner circle. That's exhausting and it's not me."

"I didn't know that's how you felt."

She nodded and gave him a sad smile. "When you're with your friends it's like I'm just there, smiling and being pretty. Popularity just doesn't suit me. And I'm not whining here but you have friends – too many friends – and you don't have time to be with just me."

"Okay so first I paid too much attention to you and now, I don't pay enough attention to you?" he asked, looking at her as if she'd grown horns. "Now we can't be together because we're too different but before you said it was okay if we didn't like the same things."

"It's not that - " she started to say, backing away from him. 

"Then please, Rory, tell me what it is about. Because all I can figure out is that you keep finding one reason after another to run away from me. So whatever it is, figure it out because you're not going to get rid of me so easily."

"Maybe I want to be with you more than you want to be with me!" she blurted out finally, cheeks hot with anger and tears and breath coming out in short breaths. 

She didn't know that that was how she felt until the words had left her mouth. She always figured that since Tristan had been pursuing her for so long that it would be the other way around. She had never considered that after he had her, he wouldn't be that interested in being with her. _That_ really scared her. 

Her words hung in the air for a tense minute as they stared at each other.

Tristan started to laugh. At first it started off as tiny chuckled but then got deeper and bubbled out his chest in what she could only describe as hoots of laughter. She stared at him, wide eyed and hurt as he continued to laugh at her expense. The worst possible reasons for his mirth entered her mind and she bit her bottom lip to stop from quivering. What the hell was so funny?

"Rory," he said finally managed to say as his hilarity subsided. He came to stand in front of her, grinning. She was about to push him away for being so cruel but saw the soft gleam in his eyes. She saw the…tenderness. It was irresistible. "Rory, that has to be the most absurd thing I have ever heard. And you're on a roll here with those today. I don't know but I think I might have to spell it out for you. I really do want to be with you. I thought it was the most obvious thing in the world."

"It wasn't - isn't," she stuttered, taken aback at the simplicity and honesty of his answer. "Not to me. I still don't know why."

"These kind of things aren't to be known," he teased sagely. "But to be felt."

Despite herself, she started to smile. A laugh escaped her lips. "I cannot believe you."

"This is the real thing, Rory." His drew her close, his arms around her waist. Hesitantly, she reached up and twined her arms behind his back, lacing her fingers in his hair. "Do you know how long I have waited for you? For this? Did you really think I'd give it up so easily?"

"I don't know. I was overwhelmed."

"All you have to do is tell me. Believe me, if it were a choice between you and my so-called friends, I'd pick you any day of the week and twice on Sunday."

"Well, thank you," she replied, amused by his choice of words. "I'm sorry I blew up at you. I don't know what got into me."

"All is forgiven," he intoned with a cheeky grin. "I'm sorry that I didn't realize you'd be uncomfortable with my friends. I should have known, though. Since you didn't say anything, I thought you didn't mind."

"I don't really," she replied. It was the truth. She didn't want to be one of those girlfriends that constantly sought attention from their boyfriends and gave them no space. "I just don't want to have to share you with them all the time."

"Watch it there, Mary," he growled playfully, lowered his lips to her ear and nipped the lobe. "You'll inflate my ego."

She giggled as he kissed her neck. "That's not even possible considering the size of it." 

He laughed and pulled away, his eyes darkening a bit. Her breath caught in her throat. Suddenly, she couldn't remember why she was laughing.

His eyes lowered to her lips and then back up to hers and she suddenly felt her mouth go dry. His arms tightened around her waist as he dipped his head and she titled her face up to meet his mouth halfway.

There was nothing innocent or playful about the kiss. He pressed her against him; let his hands roam freely under her shirt and up her back without any indication from her. Not that she would have stopped him if there were hesitation on his part. No, she was too busy kissing him back, responding feverishly. Before she knew it, he had lifted her off her feet, turned her around and pushed her back onto the couch, coming to rest on top of her – never breaking the kiss.

She gasped for air when he finally tore his lips away and started to kiss her neck. Heat was spreading through her, fire racing over her skin. Her hands seemed to move on their own accord, running up under his shirt and skimming over the muscles in his back that bunched together at her touch. He drew in a sharp breath at the contact and she repeated the action, awed that it could make him react like that. In fact, his kisses became hotter. 

Their lips met again, slower this time, but no less passionate. When his hand traveled up between them and to the buttons of her shirt, she didn't stop him. He slipped the first button through the hole and glided his finger over the skin. The second button came undone and his fingers traveled south, tracing the curve of her breast. 

She knew that if she didn't say anything, things would go too far, too fast. But his kisses and ministrations weren't leaving much room for thought and he body seemed to have taken control. His lips nipped at her collarbone and she moaned. "Tristan."

"Hmm?" he answered, undoing the third button.

"We should stop." Her hands played with the hair at his nape as her lips fastened to the skin under his jaw.

"Uh huh," he mumbled distractedly as the second last button popped open and he started to trail kisses from her collarbone to the valley between her breast. She shuddered involuntarily.

The phone rang.

Tristan jumped away almost instantaneously, looking incredibly guilty as he stared at the phone, resting innocently on the coffee table. Rory sat up, pulling her shirt close; her cheeks flushed. Slowly, she reached for the phone and tried to compose herself. "Hello?"

"It's an emergency!" a familiar voice (that she couldn't place in her dazed state) yelled into the phone. "You have to come!" 

"Lane?" she asked, immediately concerned. "Lane, what's wrong?" 

"My mom found out about Henry!"

Rory gasped, looking at Tristan. "What? How?"

"Just come over, Rory! I can't talk over the phone and Mama will be back soon! She's gone to church to absolve my sins and seek guidance from the Lord. You have to save me!" her best friend cried and Rory knew she was on the verge of tears.

"Calm down, Lane. I'll be right over."

She hung up and quickly buttoned her shirt, avoiding Tristan's gaze. He cleared his throat and ran a hand through his hair. "So you have to go?"

Rory stood up and straightened her hair. There was no way she was going to the Kim house with her lips swollen, hair mussed and cheeks flushed. She felt like she had a mark on her forehead a la The Scarlet Letter. _That _would only make the situation worse. "Lane's in trouble."

"Is it bad?" he asked as they hurried out the door, locking it on her way out. She nodded furiously. They headed to his car and he turned to her. "Should I drop you off?"

"Mrs. Kim might see you!"

"So I'll call you?" he asked confused.

"Yes!" she answered, kissed him sloppily on the cheek and ran away without another word. She would have to think about what happened on the couch later. 


	27. Chapter 27: Color Me Green

**Dedication: **To Roxy. Just cause. Chapter 27: Color Me Green 

Tristan unloaded the books tucked in the crook of his arm into the locker, tucked a pencil behind his ear and the shut the metal door with a bang. When the lock didn't latch on, the door swung open again, mocking him. He scowled and shut it again, this time, harder.

"Looks like someone didn't get laid this weekend," Jack Hunter commented from his locker, across the hallway. "What's the matter DuGrey, not getting enough lovin'?" 

Oh if only he knew, Tristan thought to himself. He even sounded bitter in his head. He turned to the other guy and smiled. "And you'd know all about that, wouldn't you Jack?"

Jack shut his locker and sauntered over, wearing a grin. "Abusing school property and crabby comebacks. Seriously, DuGrey, you reek of sexual frustration. If Gilmore isn't fulfilling her requirements you should really turn to one of the other lovely ladies."

The only thing Tristan would accomplish by answering Jack's barbs with one of his own would be to have Rory's name brought up too much for his liking. Especially when his words could be so easily twisted like they had only a week before. So he simply shrugged. "Thanks, but no thanks." 

"No thanks to what?" Rory said from behind him as she approached his locker, a cup of coffee in her hand and smile on her face. He returned it and pulled her in for a hug. "Good morning."

"Yes it is," he mumbled into her hair and nipped her lobe with his teeth.

She giggled and pulled away. "Hands off, DuGrey. It's too early in the morning and you'll make me spill my coffee."

Jack, who had been watching the interaction, snorted and raised his brows in an expression that clearly said, 'I told you so'. "You just consider what I said, Tristan," he said and left to go harass someone else. 

Tristan sighed and shook his head. Rory's brows drew together. "What was that about?"

"Forget it. Jack is an asshole." 

"Okay," she answered a little warily and took a sip of her coffee. They started to walk towards her homeroom class. "You seem…anxious."

"What?" he said quickly, a little guilty. Was it that obvious? "I'm not anxious."

She laughed a little, looking at him funnily. "Whatever you say, Tristan."

He shrugged as they stopped near the doorway to her class. "I haven't been getting much sleep and then my body just gives up and shuts down."

"Are you stressed?"

Her concern amused and touched him at the same time. He grinned. "No."

"Then what's the problem?" 

He leaned forward and lowered his voice. "You."

"Me?" she asked startled. "What did I do?" 

He placed a hand on her hips and drew her near, forgetting his promise of being discreet. She flushed a little and looked up at him, question. "I can't get yesterday out of my head. In fact, I haven't been able to sleep to well ever since I first kissed you at your house." 

She blushed pink and smiled charmingly. "I've been pretty restless, too." The admittance came out so freely he was surprised at first and then pleased. He had been worried that their hot and heavy make-out session on the couch had freaked her out. But instead she seemed…happy. She tapped him on the arm and gave him an admonishing look. "Don't look at me like that."

"Like what?" 

"Like you're going to kiss me," she answered softly. 

His lips curved and he leaned in. "Oh but I am." 

~*~ ~*~ ~*~

"I see you're fitting into your new role well," Madeline commented as she passed by Rory's seat during English. 

"It's not a role."

"Not to you," the dark-haired girl replied. "But everyone else is already tallying up the homecoming nominees." 

Rory's eyes widened. "You're kidding." 

"Well of course," Louise piped up from behind her. "But it give time, dear." 

"Where's Paris?" she asked, changing the subject.

"You haven't heard?" the blonde answered, grinning widely. "Paris Gellar is absent."

"I feel I'm being redundant when I say this but you're kidding, right? Has this ever happened before?"

"Not in her twelve years of education," Madeline answered with a giggle.

"Maybe she's sick," Rory pondered.

"Please," Louise scoffed. "Wake up and smell the hottie, Rory. Paris is cutting classes to engage in naughty behavior with her new boy toy."

Rory laughed and leaned back in her seat, wondering what Jess would say when she told him of his "boy toy" status. The teacher came in a moment later and all nonsensical chatter stopped as he launched into extreme detail about King Lear. By the end of it, Rory had broken two pencils and developed a cramp in her wrist. When the bell rang and signaled the end of the day, she let out a silent thank you to God, stuffed her books in and headed out the doorway with the rest of the class.

She couldn't remember if she was supposed to meet Tristan at his locker or if it was the other way around. When she didn't find him there, she assumed it was the first one and headed to his. A familiar tall girl with chestnut hair was talking to him, moving her hands around a lot, as if trying to stress her words with her actions. Tristan seemed amused and laughed out loud as he dumped a few book in his locker. Rory approached cautiously and the girl turned, revealing the face Roxanne Hart. She had had a class with Roxy junior year and they had possibly worked on a project together.

"Hey Rory," the other greeted brightly.

"Hi," she answered with a small smile. She looked at Tristan, brows raised. "I was supposed to meet you here, right?"

"That was the plan," Tristan nodded and then shut his locker. "Unfortunately, I can't hang. Hudson just dumped this huge, grade-altering project on us, and Roxy and I gotta start cracking on it." 

"Crack being the operative word," Roxy joked and Tristan seemed to be the only one who got it because he laughed again. The brunette turned to her with an impish grin. "Sorry, I'm going to have to steal your boyfriend for the evening."

Rory gave her a tight smile, which she hoped looked cheerful. Just in case, thought, she added,  "Just as long as you bring him back in one piece."

Tristan shut his locker and absently kissed her on the forehead. "I'll see you later."

Before she could say anything, the two were heading down the hallway, immersed in conversation, and his hand on her back as he guided her through the throng of student leaving the building. She sighed and turned to head the other way. "Later." 

~*~ ~*~ ~*~ 

"Hey honey," Christopher greeted his daughter on the phone.

"Dad!" she replied brightly. "How are you?"

"I'm good. Really busy, but good. I tried calling your Mom at work but they said she was out and then I remembered Emily telling me that you were going to spend the afternoon at the mansion. So, I called." Christopher took in a breath. Lorelai's rambling ways were rubbing off on him after all these years. "So, how are you?"

"Pretty good."

"That doesn't sound to convincing. What's the matter?"

"It's nothing, really." She sounded very distracted. "I just have a lot of work to do."

Maybe it was something she couldn't discuss over the phone, he assumed. Or it was a girl thing that she couldn't discuss with him. Either way, he needed to back off. "Okay. So how's the boyfriend?"

"I wouldn't know," she answered, her voice a little bitter.

Ah, so that was it. Boy problems. "What happened?"

"He's working on a project," she replied with a sigh.

"That doesn't sound so bad."

"With another girl."

"Oh." 

"Yeah."

"It's only schoolwork, honey."

"You obviously don't know Tristan," she retorted and then sighed again. "Sorry."

"No problem. You know, you could always go over. Check up on him and then make some kind of excuse for being there."

"I couldn't do that." She was shocked by the notion and it didn't surprise him. "Could I?"

Christopher laughed. "Once when Lorelai and I started dating, she had to do this big part in the school play opposite this guy that I hated. He had made it clear on more than one occasion that he liked her. Your mother was so oblivious to it that when I told her, she told me I was crazy."

"How very teen drama of you two."

"Thanks. Anyway, I followed them to his house and stayed there the entire time they did ran lines together. It annoyed the hell of Lorelai and Anthony was just about ready to throw me out."

"Of course you knew that he wouldn't in front of Mom."

"Exactly." Christopher smiled at the memory. Good times. "The week after, he tried to kiss her at a Christmas party. She slugged him."

Rory laughed. "Thanks Dad. You made me feel better."

"Mission accomplished."

~*~ ~*~ ~*~ 

"Rory," Tristan greeted her, surprised, when she walked into the DuGrey living room where he and Roxanne were working on their project. Papers were sprawled across the living room floor and he and Roxanne were on their hands and knees, looking for references, mapping out regions and searching for notes related to their project. He had been so immersed in it that it was weird seeing his girlfriend at his house when she wasn't supposed to be. "What are you doing here?"

"Uh, I thought you guys would be done," she replied tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "I wanted to come by and see you."

His brows furrowed together. "All the way from Stars Hollow?"

"I was at my grandparents. Hello Roxy." Wow, that was a cold greeting if he had ever heard one. What was up with her?

Roxanne smiled and looked up briefly from her notes. "Hey Rory."

Rory sat down on the ground beside them and grabbed some papers off the floor. "So what's this project on?"

Tristan ignored her question. "I told you we'd be working on the project."

"I know," she answered. "I thought you'd be done."

"The word project seems to imply time consuming, Rory." He wasn't mad at her for being there or anything, he just wanted to know why she was there when she knew that he couldn't spend time with her. 

"Do you want me to leave?"

"That's not what I meant."

"But you want me to?" she asked, her tone getting a little high. 

He ran a hand through his hair, confused. Why would she want to stay and watch while he and Roxy worked on a project together? Did he want to feel neglected and bored? She was really acting strange. Well, it wasn't like he didn't want her around. Finally, he just sighed. "Of course I don't want you to go."

She smiled. "Good. I'll be as quiet as a mouse. Quieter, even. Do you mind, Roxy?"

The other girl shrugged. "Why would I mind?

_Maybe because I'll be distracted beyond belief with Rory sitting there all cute and innocent_, Tristan thought in his head. Out loud he said, "Okay, so where were we?"

Rory settled on the couch, pulled out a book from her bag and crossed her legs. He looked at Roxy who was desperately trying to hold back a knowing grin but failing miserably.

Girls were so weird. 


	28. Chapter 28: Slow Burn

**Dedication: **_To Gracie Lou because she's feeling down!_

Chapter 28: Slow Burn

"Would you look at the time?" Roxy said as she stretched her long legs in front of her. They had been working on the project non-stop for two hours. Tristan sighed and closed his textbook with a thud. "I should get going."

Rory, who was still perched on the couch, smiled sweetly. "So soon?"

If Roxy was irritated by Rory's thinly veiled and pretty catty comments throughout the course of the study session, she didn't show it. In fact, she just simply smiled and answered all of her questions politely. "Yeah, I have plans."

"I'll walk you to the door," Tristan said before he glanced at Rory. She was frowning. Roxy collected her books and stood up, slinging her book bag over her shoulder. "I'll be right back, Ror."

At the door, he turned to his guest and gave her a sheepish smile. "I feel like I should apologize or something but I'm not sure what I'm apologizing for. I have no idea what got into Rory today."

Roxy smirked as he opened the door for her. "Don't worry about it. You've got a reputation. I'm pretty sure that my boyfriend is at home, thinking of ways to remove your head from your body as we speak. Be careful, tonight."

He laughed. "See you tomorrow, Rox."

Tristan closed the door and paused. Rory Gilmore, jealous that he was _studying_ with another girl? His lips curved. Now that was a concept he could get used to. He strolled back into the living room to find her nervously fidgeting with the hem of her shirt. She looked up at him as he leaned against the entryway, trying to contain his humor. 

"I know what you're thinking." She stopped fidgeting and folded her arms on her lap. 

"Oh?" he asked mildly.

Her eyes widened indignantly. "I wasn't jealous." He arched an eyebrow, letting his amusement show. She stared at him for a minute and then let out a frustrated sigh. "Okay, okay so I wanted to pull her hair out of her roots." She covered her face with her hands and mumbled, "I'm such a loser."

He laughed, crossed the room over to the couch and sat down beside her. He pulled her hands gently away from her face. "Rory, you're not a loser."

"I'm not?" she sniffed, looking at him so innocently he wanted to kiss her. But then again, he always wanted to kiss her so he was able to resist the urge for a while.

He gave her a look. "Do you think I'd date a loser?"

"Don't make fun of me." She pouted and looked away from him, crossing her arms over her chest, petulantly. He didn't know why but her childish antics were irresistible to him. "I hate being jealous. She wasn't even doing anything! You weren't even doing anything but studying! I feel so stupid."

He took her hands in his again, smiling. "Rory, look at me." She did after a minute, her expression wary. "It's okay to be jealous. This isn't even that bad. I've done some pretty stupid things too, you know. You do remember the Winter Formal, right?"

One corner of her mouth lifted into a half-smile. "It wasn't really a shining moment for you."

"Exactly," he said, tugging her forward and pushing a stand of hair away from her face. "You have absolutely nothing to worry about."

She took in a deep breath and then smiled. "I knew that. A part of me really did know that. I just get crazy sometimes, if you haven't noticed already."

He leaned in and touched his lips to hers. "I hadn't."

She responded almost instantly to his kiss, taking the initiative and deepening it before he could. Her hands came to rest at the nape of his neck while his traveled down the side of her body and stopped on her waist. 

She pulled him back onto the couch and he followed willingly, until his body was covering her and she was under him, still kissing him hotly. 

The logical part of him kept reminding him that they weren't ready for this, that he needed to slow things down before it got to the point he couldn't stop. But that part was quickly losing voice as Rory's pressed herself against him and made that low moaning sound from somewhere inside her throat. Her hands were feverishly tangled in his hair and then quickly slipped down his back, to tug his shirt out of his pants. 

He broke the kiss and they both gasped for air. The look in her eyes was enough to make him completely ignore the rational voice in his head and go in for another drugging kiss. This time, she worked on unbuttoning his shirt, while he kissed her neck. Her hands slipped under his shirt and he felt like he was on fire as they explored his skin. 

His hands, which were tangled in her hair until now, came to rest on her shoulders as he forcefully pulled away from her, making sure not to crush her. Her eyes flew open again and she looked up at him confused as he lifted himself off of her. 

"Tristan?" she asked, sitting up on the couch. "Is something wrong?"

Pulling away had been one of the hardest things he had ever done. He wondered where he got the willpower. He started to button his shirt and avoided eye contact. "Of course nothing's wrong. It's just that my mother is due home any minute."

"Oh," she said softly, letting her legs fall to the floor as she stood up. "I didn't realize."

"Doing what we were…it's not really a good idea usually. In the living room." God, why did he feel like such a fool? "I mean people walk by often. Maids and…other people."

"Right," she said and picked up her book from the mahogany coffee table. "I should probably be going home, anyway. Mom doesn't know where I am and she'll start to get worried soon."

"Okay," he said as he followed her into the foyer. He smiled, hoping to make light of the awkward situation. "Yeah, I don't want your mom coming after me with a gun or anything."

"It would probably be a very blunt knife."

"That's reassuring," he answered dryly and opened the door for her. She glanced at him briefly and it looked like she was going to say something. "Rory?"

She turned abruptly, looking worried. "Did I do something wrong?"

He almost laughed out loud. She really had no idea how much she had turned him on with a few kisses in a matter of minutes. That kind of naiveté was endearing and a little…well, frustrating. He shook his hand and reached for her hands. "You didn't do anything wrong."

"But?" she prompted, her eyes searching his face for some kind of sign.

"But if we continued…_that_, then I might've ended up doing something we just weren't ready for. And I really wanted to, too."

She bit her bottom lip. "You did?"

He pulled her close. "Of course."

Her hands came to rest on his chest and she played with the buttons there before looking him in the eyes. "Thank you."

He wanted to ask for what, but after seeing her expression and after the earnestness of her voice had sunk it, he didn't have to. He smiled, brought her hands to his lips and softly kissed her knuckles. "I'm glad you did come here, though. Jealousy aside and everything."

She leaned in and kissed him, softly pressing herself against him. It amazed him that even that somewhat innocent move could cause his blood to leap in his veins. Her tongue traced over his lower lip and when he took it as an invitation to intensify the kiss, she pulled away with a smile and a teasing gleam in her eyes. "I have to go."

Tristan rested his forehead against her for a second and smiled. "Okay."

Rory walked to her car and he watched her drive off, the memory of their kiss still turning in his mind. He closed the door behind and leaned back against it with another frustrated sigh. 

He needed to take a cold shower.

~*~ ~*~ ~*~ 

"So," Tristan said as he picked a slice of pizza out the cardboard box that rested on the coffee table in the middle of the Gilmore living room. It was the next night and he had managed to wrangle an invitation from Rory to come over, even though it was a school night. He had redeemed himself by bringing pizza. "You seem to have the house to yourself on a regular basis these days." 

Rory nodded and wiped the corner of her mouth with a napkin. "Yeah, she's caught up in this whole Luke vs. Dad mess and it's driving her crazy. I think getting out of the house helps though. The other day, she went to visit Grandma. Voluntarily."

"So your Dad just came back, in a week?"

"Yeah." She frowned. Her parents were really starting to worry her. "I don't know what's going on with them and lately it seems like neither of us have time to catch up on each other's life with school and work. And boyfriends."

He grinned. "So I'm way up there on the priority list, am I?"

She picked up her can of soda and let out a dramatic sigh. "It's pathetic, isn't it?" He pretended to be hurt and she laughed as he threw a napkin at her. After she took a sip of her soda, she reached over and patted him on the knee. "You just have to get used to the fact that you're not the center of the universe, Tristan."

"Well then maybe I'll just find myself a girlfriend who is willing to put my needs above her own," he teased and closed the pizza box. 

"Yeah, good luck with that."

He wiped his fingers with the napkin and scoffed. "Oh, you don't think I can?"

She raised a haughty eyebrow. "On no, I'm sure there are plenty of dimwits ready to fall at your feet, DuGrey."

He shifted closer to her and pulled her legs on to his lap as she twined her arms around his neck. "Are you done mocking me, Gilmore?"

"Not nearly."

"I have ways to shut you up. And if I recall, they do the job pretty effectively," he reminded her; alluding to the time he had kissed her in the kitchen during study night from hell. "In fact, I left you speechless."

"Well then, I have only one thing to say to you."

Her lips hovered near his as he smiled. "What's that?"

"You'll never find a girl as good as me."

She cut off his comment with her lips, softly teasing him. He responded with equal pressure – letting the kiss remain sweet. Even in it's innocence, the kiss didn't fail to bring those warm feelings in the pit of her stomach. It was an aching heat that spread slowly through her system, making her blood stir ever so slightly. 

She was the one to break the kiss, resting her forehead against his as she took in a deep breath, eyes still closed. His beating was still erratic and his hands came to rest on the small of her back. "Rory?"

"Hmm?"

"We have the entire house to ourselves."

Her eyes fluttered open and a slow smile spread across her face. "I think I can get used to my mother being away."

He kissed her chin and in return, she kissed the side of his face. "Mm, so can I." The phone rang loudly, jarring them out of their peace. Tristan let out a sigh and released her hair from his grip. "Now if only we could do something about the damn phone."

Rory giggled as she untangled herself from him. "It might be important." She headed to the kitchen, in search of the phone and surprisingly found it on the table. She picked it up and pressed the talk button. "Hello?"

"Hey sweetie," her mother greeted her.

"Mom, where are you?"

"Hartford. At your grandparents'."

Rory furrowed her brows together. "Again?"

"I know!" Lorelai exclaimed. "It's so surreal. Who woulda thunk that I, Lorelai Gilmore would ever in a million years voluntarily go to my parents' house?"

"_Escape_ to your parents house," Rory corrected. 

"Whatever," her mother scoffed. "So what are you upto?"

Rory glanced in the direction of the living room and blushed a little. "Oh, not much. You know…the usual."

"Tristan's there, isn't he?"

"He brought pizza." After a few minutes of idle chitchat, Lorelai warned her daughter about behaving and told her she would be home in fifteen minutes. When Rory turned around, Tristan was standing in the doorway of her bedroom, peeking inside, curiously. "What are you doing?"

"Wondering if I'm allowed inside." 

"Inside my room? Uh, why not?"

He stepped in and she followed, wondering why he had a sudden interest in her room. He examined it quickly as she stood idly by. "So, this is definitely more your style than the cotton candy room at your Grandparent's."

"Definitely."

"Figures." He said as he walked to her bed and sat down on it and then picking up her stuffed toys at the foot of the bed.

"Meaning?" she asked, a little offended.

He held up her teddy bear and smiled mockingly. "Do you have name for him?"

"You'll never know." She snatched it out of his hands pouted as he grabbed her by the waist, pulling her close to him. She tossed the bear back on the bed and then straddled him as his arms came around her waist. His lips found the sensitive spot between her shoulders and neck and she moaned when he bit down softly, sure to leave a mark. "Mom's going to be home in fifteen minutes."

He titled his mouth up to hers. "There's a lot we could do in fifteen minutes."


	29. Chapter 29: Spontaneous Combustion

Chapter 29: Spontaneous Combustion 

He had actually been proud of his restraint over the past couple of days when it came to kissing her. In fact, he had been the first one to pull away the day before on his couch when things had started to heat up. Tristan DuGrey was learning to control his impulses.

That was until this very moment.

All his self-control had been thrown out the proverbial window as soon as she had straddled him on her bed. Her bed - which, in all ways was the perfect place to let their passion unfurl – but it was just so…cute. As was her whole room. But at that moment, she was anything but cute.

She was aggressive. Her tongue was insistently probing against his as she pressed herself against him. He had no idea where she had learned to do that. She let out a low, deep moan and grinded her lower body into his. 

And that's when the until-maintained control snapped.

He growled, grabbed her rear and turned them around so now she was lying on her bed. He settled between her legs before launching an attack on her senses with his lips. His hands dug into her hair, almost furiously, and she gasped as he kissed her deeply, not giving an inch and letting her know that he was in control.

Instead of pulling away or pushing him away, she yielded willingly to the kiss; pulling him closer, arching into him. Basically, torturing him in kind.

The thought had him grinning against her lips. He broke the kiss and let his fingers untangle from her hair. "You realize that you're playing with fire, right?"

Her eyes still shut; she nodded and whispered, "I know."

That's all the confirmation he needed. He started to place butterfly kisses on the side of her face and her jaw as his fingers skillfully unbuttoned her shirt, one button at a time. Even though she seemed to be into it, he expected her to stop him but all he heard was her erratic breathing.

So, he pulled the material apart and pulled back to admire the flushed skin and delicate curves. She was wearing a simple, white cotton bra that could only be described as modest and yet, she even managed to make that look sexy to him. She must've felt his gaze on her because her eyes fluttered open and her hands went immediately to her shirt, to pull it close. 

He grabbed her wrist and stopped her. 

Her eyes flew to his, wide and innocent, and he felt that familiar thumping in his chest. He leaned in again, kissed her lightly on the lips. Then slowly, he kissed her chin, her neck – sucking gently there so he'd leave a mark and then her collarbone. 

"Rory!" 

_Shit_, he swore in his head but before he had any time to do anything, Rory had shoved him off of her. He stumbled back and fell ungracefully on the floor. 

She didn't even notice him there as she frantically buttoned her shirt. "Tristan, get up!"

He rolled her eyes and lifted himself off the floor and on to her bed again. "I'm trying."

"In here!" she called out finally when Tristan heard heels and another pair of feet against the floorboards. She ran a hand through her hair and then turned to look at him as if he'd gone crazy. "Get off the bed!"

"What?" he asked puzzled as she grabbed his arm.

Before she could reply, Lorelai and Christopher were standing at the doorway, with identical expressions of surprise. Rory's mom seemed like the first to recover as she smiled with feigned cheerfulness. "Hey Tristan."

He stood up swiftly as Rory stood by him, trying unsuccessfully to not look guilty. "Ma'am. Sir." Suddenly, he felt like he had lost the privileged to call them by their first names. 

Rory rushed to the door and hugged her father. "Hey Dad!"

Christopher returned the hug but kept his eyes on Tristan who had the sudden urge to squirm. But his upbringing didn't allow him to, which, for once in his life, he was grateful for. 

Lorelai leaned against the door. "So, what have you crazy kids been up to?"

Her voice was intended to sound casual, but Tristan could hear the suspicious undertone loud and clear: what the hell were you doing to my daughter? Rory shrugged, trying to remain nonchalant. "I was just showing Tristan my room."

"Really," Chris said, a skeptical expression on his face that could rival Lorelai's.

"Yes," Tristan answered quickly. "But it's getting late and I should leave. Rory needs to study."

His girlfriend nodded her head vehemently. "I'll walk you to your car."

Once they outside, Tristan glanced over Rory's shoulder to see if her parents were standing at the door. Obviously, they were too cool to do that. He started to laugh and Rory smiled up at him weakly. "They know what we were doing."

She scoffed. "Yeah, they're smart like that."

"Are they going to grill you when you get back in there? Because I can stay if you need me to," he offered, hooking his arm around her waist. "You know, so it'll take the heat off."

"They're already planning on dismembering you," she joked, resting her hands on his chest. "I'd like my boyfriend in one piece, if that's okay with you."  He grinned and leaned down to kiss her. When they pulled apart, her expression grew serious. "About what happened…"

He brought his hands to cup her face. "I would have stopped."

"That's the thing; I'm not sure I wanted you to stop."

He drew in a sharp breath when the significance of her statement settled in his muddled brain and the traced her lower lip with his thumb. "I sure as hell didn't want to."

She smiled and lifted her mouth up for his kiss. 

~*~ ~*~ ~*~ 

"It shouldn't take that long to say goodnight," Lorelai mused and then peered outside the window to spy on Rory and Tristan on the driveway. "Wow, where did she learn to kiss like that?"

Christopher rolled his eyes. "Lor, get away from the window and stop spying on our child."

"Easy for you to say, mister. You're not watching your teenage daughter making out with Chilton's own version of a Greek God."

"Because I was smart enough to stay away from the window."

Lorelai sighed and reluctantly pulled away. She trudged over to the couch and sat down beside Christopher. "I'm worried about her. That boy is trouble."

"You were singing his praises at your parents," he reminded her.

"Because you don't tell Richard and Emily that their angelic granddaughter is being seduced by the devil. No, you just smile and tell them that he's polite and charming and takes her out on dates and brings her flowers. What you don't tell them is that every time the two of them are alone together, they're ready to rip each other's clothes off. That would send the Gilmores over the roof."

"I'll bet." Christopher glanced towards the window. "It can't be that bad."

"When I look at them, I see us, seventeen years ago," Lorelai said in a matter of explanation.

He grinned. "And we didn't turn out all that bad." She rolled her eyes. "Okay, so I understand your concern. I'm worried too. But Lor, she's smarter than us. You know that."

Lorelai sighed. Christopher, being the only person in the world to know her inside out, still didn't understand the gravity of the situation at hand. She turned to him on the couch and tried to explain. "I just thought that Rory was over her bad boy phase with Jess. I mean, she went back to Dean – sweet, kind, innocent, floppy-haired Dean."

"Well, Gilmore girls can never stay with those kind of men," Christopher stated, with a hint of a smile. When Lorelai gave him a stern look, he added, "Not for long, anyway."

Before she could say anything, the front door opened and Rory came in, looking at little starry-eyed. Lorelai gave Christopher a "see what I mean?" look and then turned to her daughter again. "Hey honey."

"Hey," Rory returned as she stepped cautiously into the living room. "So Dad, what do you have planned for tomorrow?"

"Well, I was thinking that I could pick you up after school and we can do something together…you know, a movie or something. That is if you're free."

"I'm free."

Lorelai gasped a little. "What, no plans with lover boy?" 

"No plans," her daughter answered witheringly. "I have to go finish my homework."

"I'm sure you were working real hard on it too, sweetie."

Christopher poked her side. "Alright honey, I'll see you tomorrow." Once she was gone, he turned to Lorelai and raised a curious eyebrow. "That thing on her neck…"

Lorelai nodded. "Yeah, that was a hickey."

He sighed. "I thought so."

~*~ ~*~ ~*~ 

Rory was walking to her locker the next day at school when someone grabbed her by the elbow and pulled her into an empty classroom. Her book bag slipped off her shoulders and fell to the ground. She was about to object but before she knew it, she was shoved against the door and a pair of lips descended upon hers, cutting off her cry of indignation. Of course, by then, she didn't really want to protest anymore. Her eyes fluttered close as strong arms enclosed her waist and insistent lips parted hers. She kissed back, letting her hands travel up his blazer and then tug at the lapels, trying to pull him as close as possible. 

"Morning Rory," Tristan whispered as they broke apart and she didn't have to open her eyes to know that he was smirking, thoroughly satisfied. It took her a minute to completely recover from the kiss but eventually, her eyes fluttered open. His grin widened so that she could his dimples – _those dimples_ - deepen. "How are you?"

He was teasing her. After kissing her like _that _and completely throwing her off guard, he was teasing her. God help her if she didn't want him more for it. She managed to remain nonchalant as she pulled away from him and went to retrieve her book bag. "Pretty good. You?" 

"Better now." He followed her and grabbed her book bag before she could, depositing it on the desk behind him. Then lifted her by the waist again, this time leaving her no choice but to wrap her legs around his waist. Her lips found his again, as he turned them and they stumbled over to the teacher's desk at the front of the classroom. 

"Tristan," Rory mumbled against his lips as he set her down on the desk, hers legs still around him. What would her mother say if she saw her now with her skirt hiked up, her legs exposed and a cute boy pushing her down on the desk? _Well nothing_, an impish voice said_. Lorelai is not here, right now_. But an entire school of their schoolmates were there. "Someone can walk in."

"I locked the door," he replied, his hands running over her thighs. His lips traveled down her neck. "Plus, no one uses this room first period. I checked."

She sighed, reassured. Her hands dug into his hair, as his lips continued to move down towards her collarbone. "You know, I never pictured myself as a girl who would make out with her boyfriend in a classroom, just a few minutes before homeroom."

He laughed against her neck as his hands came to rest on her hips. "At least it's not a closet, right?"

"Thank God for small favors." Her giggled turned into a moan as he scraped his teeth against her collarbone, making her shudder deliciously. "Tristan, you've already left a big hickey on my neck."

He pulled away, brought his hand to her neck and pushed aside her collar to see his handiwork. He grinned devilishly. "That is quite impressive, if I do say so myself. Lorelai didn't happen to see it, did she?"

"Are you kidding?" Rory answered, pouting a little. "She most definitely saw it. There's no other way to explain the disapproving stares and the cold shoulder since you left last night. Even Dad was quiet – I think he instinctively knew what she was thinking."

He reached up and pushed a strand of hair away from her face. "They're just worried that I might rob you of your virtue."

"Well, I am pretty virtuous." 

"Give me time." He leaned in and nipped her earlobe with his teeth before he whispered, "Just give me time."

He kissed her again as his hands traveled down the side of her body and then under her skirt and over her thigh. Despite the sensation and feelings her created inside her, she quickly reached for his hands and pulled away from his lips, pushing him away. "Tristan, Tristan! We have to stop." 

His eyes were still closed and it took him a moment to open them before he stepped completely away from her, visibly trying to control himself. She bit her bottom lip to keep from smiling at his obvious frustration and slipped off the desk, straightening her hair and clothes. Tristan, being Tristan, didn't bother to fix himself up. Instead, he ran a hand through his hair and let out a deep sigh, muttering loud enough for her to hear, "I can't take this anymore."

She rested her hand on his arm. "Tristan, I'm sorry."

He turned to her, surprised and looking a bit annoyed. "Ror, stop apologizing. I didn't really mean that…I'm just…frustrated. With myself, mostly. If you haven't noticed, I can't seem to keep my hands off you."

"Well, I wasn't keeping my hands to myself, either." 

He smiled widely. "True enough."

She laughed lightly and then in a spontaneous gesture reached up and hugged him. It was weird; the two of them had been mauling each other on the teacher's desk a couple of minutes ago  - but the hug felt so much more intimate, so much more comfortable. Tristan's arms came around her waist and he buried his face in her hair. 

They stood like that; until the bell rang and then she pulled away give him a quick kiss on the lips. "I'll see you later?"

"Of course." He picked her book bag off the floor and handed it to her, before hitching his head in the direction for the door. "You go first, I'm going to need a minute."

She threw him a devilish smile (even though she was blushing a little), unlocked the door and stepped out of the room, making a mad dash to her homeroom class - all the way on the other side of the building.


	30. Chapter 30: Let's Talk About Sex, Baby

**Disclaimer: **I do not own the WB characters, the lyrics in this particular chapter title and I do not own the sexy Hugh Grant or any of his movies. I do not own _About A Boy_, the novel, which belongs to Nick Hornby.

**Dedication: **To Susie, because she's all the wonderful adjectives under the sun. 

Chapter 30: Let's Talk About Sex, Baby 

Rory was used to the quintessential silent treatment from her mother. In fact, she knew very well how to handle it. But underneath her mother's cool exterior was a fire just waiting to be lit and in Rory's experience, even the smallest sparks could set it off. Tonight, she was determined to make it through dinner without lighting a match. 

"Can you pass the oregano?" Rory asked her mom as the watched a rerun of _Friends_. Lorelai silently handed her the bottle and bit into her pizza, eyes glued to the television set. Usually, they would laugh when Chandler said something funny, or when Joey did something stupid or they'd criticize Ross for being such a dork. Tonight, they just watched and Rory knew neither of them was paying too much attention.

With Christopher, it had been easier. Her father had picked her up from school; they had seen a movie and then discussed subjects that didn't involve her love life. When they touched lightly on the subject of Tristan (she had mentioned him when they talked about school) her father had simply raised an eyebrow and asked, "How is Tristan?"

"Fine," she had answered nonchalantly. "He's working on a paper tonight so -"

"You're taking a break from each other," Christopher finished with a slight grin.

And that was it. No coldness, no prying questions. She had figured her mother would be much cooler than her father about it – or just as cool, but it wasn't going to be. Her mother was determined to make a big deal about something that didn't even happen. 

_She's not an idiot, _her conscience reminded her making her flush guiltily. _She knows that what's happening between you and Tristan is more than innocent. _If she was honest with herself – and she liked to think she often was – even she knew that Tristan DuGrey had taken more liberties with her than any of her previous relationships. She had allowed him to take those liberties, welcomed them, and enjoyed them. Deep down, she knew that was what Lorelai was worrying about.

"Let's see what else is on," she stated finally, unable to take the silence. She wasn't going to push her mother but she wasn't going to subjected to a repeated episode of a show that wasn't particularly funny that season. "This is boring."

"Well, why don't you head on over to Tristan's?" Lorelai suggested innocently and then gave he a sugary sweet smile. "I'm sure the two of you can find something much more…_interesting_ to do."

Rory rolled her eyes and let out a tired sigh. So much for unlit fires. "Alright Mom, let's hear it. What's this about?" 

Lorelai tossed her pizza crust into the box on the coffee table and wiped her fingers with a napkin. "Okay, I'll tell you what this is about. This is about Harvard."

"Harvard? What does Harvard have to do with this?"

Lorelai's eyes widened as if she couldn't believe Rory had said what she did. "What does Harvard…? Harvard has everything to do with everything, Rory! When it comes to you, Harvard is the be all and end all of everything! Harvard is your dream." 

"I know this!" Rory answered, still not understanding what her mother meant. She thought that Lorelai was upset about Tristan. What did Harvard have to do with Tristan? "I just don't know what you're getting at!"

"You, Rory. You and Harvard." Lorelai's arms flailed in a dramatic gesture as she shot off the couch. "All of this time, all of your life has been about Harvard and getting there. We worked, we sacrificed, we swallowed our pride and we planned on getting you into Harvard. You had plans, Rory!"

"I still-" she tried to interrupt her mother's tirade. 

"And now. Now you don't have plans! You have sex!" Lorelai finished, completely ignoring her.

"Oh my God!" Rory yelped incredulously and now stood up too. She looked at her mother as if she were crazy – in fact, she didn't doubt it. "Oh. My. God. I cannot believe you just said that! Mom!"

"Do you deny it?"

"Of course I deny it!" Rory yelled back, still surprised that her mother would ever say that to her. "I am not having sex. God, you're insane." 

Her mother seemed mollified by her vehement negation. But, of course, that never stopped Lorelai Gilmore from getting everything that was bothering off her chest in one argument. "I'm not an idiot, Rory. Last night, I came in and you were in your room with a boy looking awfully guilty."

"I know what you saw," she answered, blushing a little. "And I know what it looks like."

"But there's another explanation, Rory?" she scoffed, hands on hips. "Please, you're talking to me here. My daughter and Tristan in one room, hair messed up, more buttons that I'm comfortable with undone on her shirt and lips bruised – only one explanation comes to mind." 

"We were making out, Mom. Since when is making out with my boyfriend not allowed?"

"Since you started dating the centerfold for Playgirl."

"Nothing happened," Rory bit out. "We've stopped many times before -"

"Oh that is reassuring."

She glared at her mother and crossed her arms over her chest. "So you're just going to be upset because I'm in a relationship that is a little more intense than what you're used to? I thought you'd be cool about this, Mom. I was obviously mistaken."

"Don't you do that with me, Lorelai Leigh," her mother said in a tone that Rory had never heard her mother use ever before. At that moment, she sounded exactly like Emily. "You know how I feel about this. Rory, you were conceived- "

"You can't keep using that, Mom," she argued back, sitting on the couch. "What happened to you does not have to happen to me!" She wasn't a saint and she wasn't perfect and she was beginning to feel the weight of being perceived as that for the first time in eighteen years, from her mother. "I think about sex. Lately, with Tristan, I've been thinking about it a lot. I'm sorry that it upsets you." 

Lorelai let out a frustrated sigh and sat down beside Rory. "It scares me, kid."

"I'm sorry for that, then." She figured it was time to let her mother in on her thoughts and feelings. It had been for this very reason Rory hadn't disclosed her desire to anyone but Lane. And in a way…Jess. But she wasn't going to tell Lorelai that. She wrung her hands together. "I'm really attracted to Tristan. My relationship with him, it's…intense, raw."

Lorelai nodded. "Oh, I know those."

It felt good, verbalizing all her feelings. It was scary to her too - these foreign feelings, these heady desires. Her relationship with Dean had never been in the same vicinity of passionate. All his kisses (save for the one at the end of sophomore year) seemed lukewarm in comparison to Tristan's breathtaking ones. And with Jess, those few kisses were hazy in her memory because his friendship meant so much more to her. But even he didn't stir her blood, not like Tristan could with the barest touch of his lips. 

Tristan made her feel sexy.

"So, then why are you so freaked out?"

"Why are you not, Rory?" Lorelai countered. "Since when did you become so accepting of sex and having it some time in the near future? That's what scares me, Rory. That you're blindly jumping into this relationship. Commitment of the simplest form made you run." 

Rory's mouth opened, shocked. "You want me to run from commitment now? What happened to the whole speech after Dean broke up with me sophomore year?"

"That's not what I said. I just want to know what's going on."

"I told you, Tristan makes me feel…" She couldn't use the word "sexy" without making her mother angry again so she trailed off, desperately racking her brain for a word. 

"Babe, I know." Lorelai put a hand on her daughter's knee. "Tristan is the ultimate ladies' man. You're the one who told me. Just because he expects to have sex, does not mean that you have to."

Those words angered Rory further. Why didn't her mother understand that _she_ wanted Tristan just as badly? Why was it so hard for Lorelai to realize that she wasn't so innocent and naïve? It seemed like suddenly, her mother didn't understand her at all. More than anything, that hurt. In anger, she lashed out, "I can't believe I'm talking to you about this!"

It was Lorelai's turned to be shocked. "What?"

"You're the absolute worse person to be talking to relationships about! God, you can't even decide between Dad and Luke. Who's it going to be, Mom?" 

She immediately regretted saying those words as she saw color rise to her mother's cheeks, looking like she had just been slapped across the face. Rory winced, almost feeling the coldness radiating off of her mother as she stood up and walked passed her and towards the stairs, indicating that she was done with the conversation. Rory wanted to apologize but she couldn't open her mouth or form the words, shame and guilt swirling in her chest.

Lorelai turned after she climbed the first to steps and set her jaw. "Luke and I broke up."

Rory listened to her mother's footsteps as she climbed the remaining stairs and then heard her shut the bedroom door. Her cheeks felt hot as she stared blankly at the TV screen. She blindly reached over and shut it off with the remote. 

Silence filled the room. 

~*~ ~*~ ~*~ 

_"After all...I'm just a girl, standing in front of a boy, asking him to love her."_

Tristan smiled as he watched Rory mouth the words with Julia Roberts.  In truth he had been watching her since the movie began.  Her head rested lightly on his chest, her legs curled around her body resting on the couch, and her left hand absently drawing circles around his knee. He could get used to this.

Just as that thought crossed his mind, she moved, lifting her head from his chest, causing his gaze to shift back to her face in order to figure out what she was doing.  She simply flashed him a smile before snuggling in closer to him and turning back to the movie.

If this was what it meant for Rory to choose the movie, there would be no complaints from him.  Or maybe just a few he mused remembering how it was she convinced him to let her pick.

She had claimed it was a Hugh Grant phase she was going through, ever since she had finished reading _About A Boy _and then subsequently, renting the movie (along with _Bridget Jones's Diary, Four Weddings and a Funeral_ and _Two Weeks Notice_) to watch with Lorelai. But, as far as Tristan could assess, Lorelai and Rory were in some sort of a fight. So, after school, she opted to spend the afternoon with him, watching those movies. Just to bug him, he suspected. 

Chick flicks, he thought distastefully. He could live without them, but she enjoyed them, which meant he could hold her next to him throughout the entire movie and be absolutely content. So no complaints.

When he snapped out of his thoughts and returned his gaze to the television screen, Hugh Grant was sitting and Julia Roberts was lying on the infamous park bench, her belly swollen from pregnancy and Tristan realized that he missed seeing how they got together again. Oh well, he didn't really care. 

Rory pulled away from him, grinning widely as she stretched. He leaned back and smiled in return. She was wearing – well; swimming in would be a more apt description - one of his favorite sweatshirts and his most comfortable gray sweat pants because she had deemed the Chilton uniform too constricting. He didn't mind; the clothes looked much better on her. 

"What?" she asked, blushing as she caught him staring.

"Nothing," he replied with a smirk. "I was just thinking." 

"About?"

"How sexy you look in my clothes," he replied honestly. 

Her blush deepened and she pulled at the sleeve of his sweatshirt. "But it's too big and baggy."

"Believe me," he said and paused to pull her back to him. She obliged and slung her legs over his, lifting herself onto his lap and twining her arms around his neck. "Nothing is sexier. Well, possibly, you without any clothes at all."

She giggled and pretended to consider it. "I'd be awfully cold without any clothes."

He chuckled and kissed her neck. "I'm sure I'd find a way to keep you warm."

"I don't doubt it," she replied before meeting his lips for a kiss. 

He wondered if that jolt of awareness that shot through him every time her lips touched his would fade with time. When her tongue swept into his mouth, he doubted it. His arms came around her waist as he pulled her as close as humanly possible. Just like the night before, she straddled him and they sunk into the sofa together, lips fused together and hands grasping at clothes and hair. 

She pulled away first this time, cheeks flushed and eyes almost sapphire. "I could get used to this," she echoed his earlier thought and nestled further in his lap, gently grinding her lower body into his, making him groan. If she had any idea what she was doing, she was doing a damn good job pretending she didn't. 

His hands gripped at her waist, stopping any further movement. "Get used to what? Torturing me?"

The gleam of wickedness in her eyes belied her sweet smile. "That's just an added bonus. I was talking about spending the afternoon, locked away from the rest of the world, watching movies. It feels nice."

He smiled, glad that they were on the same page. "Well, it'd be nicer if I got to pick the movie."

"Oh right," she said and kissed the side of his face. "What would be watching? Something with a lot of explosions and fast cars?" 

"Adrenaline is a great aphrodisiac." 

She laughed against his skin and nibbled on his jaw line. "Let's make out."

Normally, he would be happy to oblige. In fact, he'd be more than willing. But while Rory had making out on her mind, an unwanted thought popped into his head and the rational part of him had to ask, "Rory, what happened with your mom?"

She immediately tensed but didn't pull away, confirming his suspicion that she and Lorelai had a major fight. He was willing to bet his trust fund that it was about him and his presence in Rory's room the night before. After a pause, Rory pressed her cheek to his and let out a small laugh. "I don't want to talk about it, Tristan. I want to kiss."

He wanted to kiss, too. After all, he was an eighteen-year-old guy who had been dreaming of her saying that to him for nearly two years. Besides, it was increasingly hard to think, let alone talk, when your girlfriend was kissing you and all the blood from your brain was rushing to the lower regions of your body.

He grabbed her by the waist and flipped them, so that now, she was lying on the sofa and he was on top of her. He kissed her on the lips lightly before trailing kissing down the creamy, soft skin of her neck. She yielded willingly and made a distracted sound of pleasure – which was the first sign of something being wrong. But he ignored it and ran his hands down the side of her body. 

"Tristan?"

"Mm?"

"How many girls have you slept with?"


	31. Chapter 31: This Beautiful Mess

**Author's Ramblings: **Sorry to keep you guys hanging. I really appreciate all the wonderful feedback and the kind words.

**Dedication: **To Susie, Surya, Deeta and Priya for being good sounding boards. You rock.

Chapter 31: This Beautiful Mess 

It just slipped out. 

She hadn't meant to ask it out loud, not so soon anyway but it had just burst through her as Tristan's lips trailed down her neck. It was his fault really; he had been the one to bring up Lorelai. Rory had been just fine with making out but no, Tristan DuGrey wanted to talk. If he hadn't mentioned Lorelai, she wouldn't have been thinking about the fight with her mother and all the stuff she had said about Tristan and his experiences with the opposite sex. 

But the damage had been done. She could feel it in the way his whole body tensed, the muscles in his back went taut under her roaming hands and how his lips abruptly stopped moving on her throat. His hands came down on the couch, on either side of her face as he pushed himself up and then off of her as quickly as possible.

Slowly and cringing, she brought herself to a sitting position, watching as he paced in front of her, running his a hand through his hair and muttering something under his breath. She heard something about karma and his ass but was a little too nervous to figure out what he meant. 

He stopped then and looked at her, one hand at his hip and the other still in his hair. "Was that some kind of tactical maneuver to get to me stop because I think I liked the shoving-me-off-of-you thing better."

She laughed lightly, hoping to dispel some tension. "I guess that did kind of wreck the mood, huh?" 

"Murdered it," he answered and she could hear the slight anger in his voice. It was weird, he had never been angry with her before – sarcastic and wary, yes but never angry. She didn't like it one bit. "God, what were you thinking?"

He really didn't want to figure that one out, she supposed. She got off the couch and stood in front of him. She smiled apologetically. "I wasn't thinking. But now that the question is out there…"

"I don't think you want to know the answer to that one," he replied off-handedly. 

"Why don't you let me decide," she stated, hands on hips. It couldn't be as bad as he was making it sound. It was a simple question and she had asked it because she wanted him to answer it honestly. 

His eyes flew to hers, studying her face closely. "Why do you want to know?"

Her mouth almost dropped open at that. _Why_? Why did she want to know? Because she was entertaining the possibility of sleeping with him, she thought wildly. Where had he been just now and the last couple of days when she'd practically jumped him? How could she possibly _tell_ him that without sounding completely pathetic? Were men really as daft as her mother said that they were? Getting impatient and angry herself, she crossed her arms over her chest.  

"Tristan, darling?" The voice flitted through the silence, causing both teenagers to jump slightly and whirl around to see a stunning honey-haired woman standing in the entryway, in a chic navy blue business suit, pearls dangling from her ears. Her eyes were as deep and beautiful as Tristan and Rory recognized her as Arabella DuGrey from his birthday party. 

Tristan glanced at her briefly before going to greet his mom who kissed his cheek, making Rory bite her lip to keep from giggling, despite the unsettling feeling in her stomach. "Hello mother."

Two pairs of blue eyes stared at her and Arabella smiled kindly. "Hello dear. Have we met before?"

"Y-yes, we met at Tristan's birthday party," she stammered a little when Tristan didn't introduce them and stepped forward, offering her hand. "I'm Rory Gilmore."

"My girlfriend," Tristan said finally when Arabella showed no sign of recognizing the name. 

Arabella's eyes lit up and she opened her mouth as if she were shocked. "Girlfriend! Well this is surely a surprise." She grabbed Rory's hand and shook it firmly. Rory stared disbelieving at Tristan who would not meet her gaze and instead, had opted to stare at the wall behind her. He hadn't told his mother that he was dating her? "Tristan hasn't said a word to me but he's awfully secretive about these kind of things."

"Yeah, I guess he is." Rory returned her gaze to Arabella and smiled tightly. "We haven't been dating long." 

"Did you say Gilmore, dear? Oh my, you're Lorelai's daughter!" his mother stated gleefully, she hooked an arm with Rory's and led her out of the family room. "Such a wonderful woman. We went to school together. Well actually I was two years ahead of her but we were in a school play together. How is she doing?"

"She's fine. Busy, mostly." Rory looked over her shoulder to see Tristan following them, looking like he wanted the ground to swallow him whole.

"Oh yes, with that lovely inn that she runs. Your grandmother can't stop talking about it at the club. She urges everyone to go and see for ourselves," Arabella informed her with an exaggerated eye roll. "Well dear, you must stay for dinner."

"She can't," Tristan finally interjected, causing both women to stop near the stairs and turn to look at him curiously. "I mean she needs to get home before her mother starts to worry. Isn't that right?"

"That's silly, darling. You can stay right, Rory?" Arabella asked sounding confused while Tristan looked at Rory pleadingly.

Rory wondered why he so badly wanted her to go home. She looked between the two DuGreys and then smiled brightly, her mind made up. "Yes, of course I'll stay. I'm a little underdressed though."

"Nonsense darling," Arabella said, waving her hand dismissively. "This is not dinner at the White House."

She smiled and nodded. "Okay. I'll have to leave my mother a message."

"Why don't you go on upstairs and do that," Arabella suggested and then turned to Tristan, furrowing her brows. "Stop scowling, Tristan. It's so unbecoming." 

~*~ ~*~ ~*~ 

"…So then my son decided that he wanted to partake in the celebrations," Arabella continued her story about a Fourth of July when Tristan was five over dessert. All throughout dinner, Arabella had enlightened Rory about Tristan's childhood blunders while the two laughed until they were blue and Tristan shrunk further and further into his chair, praying that someone would take pity on him and shoot him. "Of course, by then most of the fireworks were set off and the only thing left were those sparklers. So he grabbed as many as he could and lit them, twirling them all around the garden while his nanny chased him."

"Where were you, Mother?" he asked bitterly. "Getting drunk, was it?" 

Rory stared at him in shock and his mother cleared her throat and continued with a light laugh. "Well, Tristan wasn't as graceful at five and he ended up tripping and setting a couple of tablecloths on fire. It was chaos! The caterers came out with fire extinguishers and guests were running around…and Tristan kept insisting it wasn't his fault. His father was furious."

"He was embarrassed," Tristan corrected, glaring at Arabella. "He'd have to care enough to be furious."

 There was a tense silence as the three of them sat staring at their desserts. The maids came out to clear the table a few moments later and then Rory cleared her throat and smiled brightly at his mother. "It was a lovely dinner, Mrs. DuGrey. Thank you so much."

They stood up as Arabella reached for Rory's hand and squeezed it. "It was a pleasure to meet you, darling. I'll have our chauffeur take you home. We must do this again and hopefully when Tristan is in a better mood."

Rory glanced at him and smiled. "I think that will be a very rare occurrence." 

The two women laughed at his expense and he clenched his jaw, to keep from lashing out. He didn't understand it; his mother had never really cared about who he dated and what he did so it was ridiculous that she was trying to bond with Rory. And Rory had looked so angry and hurt earlier that he was sure she didn't want to sit through dinner with anybody named DuGrey.

Once his mother had left, Tristan walked her to the door where they stared at each other. Rory played with the hem of his sweatshirt, neither of them saying anything. "She's nice."

"You don't know her that well," he snapped immediately.

Rory sighed irritably and he could tell she was giving up on trying to be civil. "Why didn't you tell her about me? Tristan, my mother knows about us and hates it, my father knows, everyone in Stars Hollow knows that I'm dating you, if that's what you can call it, anyway. Why doesn't your mother know?"

"Because I don't tell her everything," he retorted. "What do you expect? That every family communicates like the Brady Bunch? My relationship with my parents isn't as peachy as yours is, Rory!"

"I didn't mean- "

"They don't care," he spat out bitterly and then swept an arm out in front of him in a dramatic gesture. "They don't care who I date or what I do unless I'm doing something wrong. God, did you even hear one good thing about my childhood through the course of the evening? Did you hear a word of praise or pride over any of my accomplishments? No, you didn't. They don't care. She was being nice to you but she's nice to everybody. It would look bad if she wasn't. _Whatever _would you think of her if she was mean?" 

"I understand- " she stuttered a little.

"How can you possibly understand?" he cut her off again, letting his anger dictate what he wanted to say. "You live in a perfect world, with perfect parents and grandparents who adore you and think you can do no wrong. That whole _cute_ little town adores you. You're a freaking princess, Rory. So tell me how could you possibly know anything about me and my family life?" 

He had been so engrossed in his own anger that he didn't see the tears forming in her eyes and the way she bit her bottom lip in an attempt to keep it from quivering. He was breathing heavily and he felt that awful lump of guilt rise in his throat as he silently watched her take in a shaky breath and form words. 

"You're right, I don't know about any of that," she answered softly and then brought her teary eyes to meet his and fixed him with a cold glare. "But then again, I wouldn't know anything. Why should I? I'm just your girlfriend. Whatever that means!"

"Rory- "

"Don't bother." She turned around and headed to the door, jerking it open. "I'm just one of many, Tristan. I guess I know the answer to my question now." 

~*~ ~*~ ~*~

The Gilmore house was dark, except for the solitary light that was on in the kitchen. Rory slowly crept inside after thanking the DuGrey's chaffeur profusely from driving her out so late. He assured her repeatedly that it was his job and she could tell he was slightly annoyed.   

When she entered the kitchen, she found her mother sitting alone, nursing a cup of coffee. She looked up briefly and then took a sip of her coffee, studying her daughter over the rim.

"Did you get my message?" Lorelai put the mug down and nodded. "Did you eat anything?" Another nod and then a beat, "are you okay?" 

She sighed and rubbed her temple. "Been better. How was dinner with the parents?"

"It was just one parent: his mom," she replied, taking a verbal answer as a sign of peace and pulled a chair out. "The dinner was fine, I guess. Tristan and I fought afterwards, though, which wasn't so fine. God, mom, you were right."

"I was?" 

Rory nodded and tugged off her coat. "His mother didn't even know we were going out. And I sat there listening to her tell me stories about his childhood and it hit me that I know very little about him. We don't talk at all."

"Well it is kind of hard to when your lips are glued to his," Lorelai joked wryly.

"We've been out on one date," she continued with a sigh. "I mean, yeah we hang out together sometimes but we haven't been to the movies together, or for dinner, or we haven't taken any walks. I guess that would ensure the not talking, right?" 

"You did skip the whole courtship phase."

Rory shrugged, wringing her hands together trying to relate what she was feeling as delicately as possible to her mother. "When he kisses me, I just react. I don't think or analyze, I just kiss him back and feel. And there's this heat in my stomach and I feel like I'm on fire."

"Welcome to the wonderful and scary land of lust, sweetie," her mother stated dryly. "It pulls you in and never lets you leave."

"Dean never made me feel that way."

"Ah, good ol' Dean."

Rory gave her a look and then reflected, "Jess and I had a few heated kisses."

Lorelai grimaced. "Let's not talk about that either."

"Tristan and I have the sexual tension down pat," Rory added and then flinched when she saw her mother cringe. "Oops, sorry. I'm just trying to make you see it from my point of view, Mom. I still feel this pull towards him and it hasn't wavered since he first kissed me."

"So what's the problem?"

"I don't think I know," she answered slowly. She closed her eyes a moment and tried to remember what it was that had set him off. He had been angry when she mentioned the girls he slept with and then his mother had come in and she figured his anger didn't have time to cool down. "I have these feelings for him that are so strong but tonight when we were having dinner, it was like something was missing."

"I'm sorry, honey." Lorelai placed a hand on hers.

"No I'm sorry," Rory replied and looked at her mother imploringly. "I can't even believe that I said what I did to you, Mom. I had no idea how much you were hurting and I just poured salt into. I didn't know, I'm so sorry."

"No one but Sookie knew, honey," Lorelai replied, her voice hitched. "It was very sudden."

"Did Luke break it off?"

"No, we both kind of decided to give each other space."

"Does it have to do with Dad?" Lorelai shrugged a little and Rory could tell she wasn't ready to discuss anything. She got out of her chair and wrapped her arms around her mother's shoulder and gave her a hug. "How 'bout we watch reruns of _The Cosby Show_?"

Lorelai gave her a watery smile and nodded. "Can we mock the clothes and hair?"

"To our heart's content." 


	32. Chapter 32: Tell Me What You're Thinking

**Dedication: **_To all the Trories at FF. 150 threads of Trory love and still going strong!_

Chapter 32: Tell Me What You're Thinking 

"Hey guys," Tristan greeted Louise, Madeline and Paris and Rory at her locker the next day at the end of school. They had been kind of avoiding each other all day, he had kind of hitched his head in acknowledgement in the morning as she rushed past him to get to class and then they kept sending each other glances all throughout US history and lunch (where he sat with his buddies and she listened to Paris drone on about her dates with Jess). He pocketed his hands and glanced at her briefly before addressing her friends. "What's going on?"

"Same old," Louise replied as she rested her head on Madeline's shoulder and complained. "Paris, can you please just pick a text book and drop it in your bag. Everyone knows you're not going to get anything done tonight now that you've got that boy toy of yours."

Paris made a noise that sounded like a hiss while Madeline giggled. "Fine, we'll go. Tristan and Rory need to act out another scene from their self-indulgent drama, anyway." 

Rory frowned as Paris shut her locker with a bang. "I'm not self-indulgent!"

"Bye!" Madeline chirped as she followed Louise and Paris down the hallway as they left, only waving at Rory and Tristan.

Once they were gone, Rory slowly turned from her locker and faced her boyfriend, ready for a fight if he wanted one, but hoping that he wouldn't. "Hey."

"Hey back," he answered in a neutral tone as he leaned against the locker next to hers and studied her face intently. "You wanna go out with me?"

She couldn't help it – a big, goofy grin spread across her face and she started to laugh. Her laughter was infectious and he cupped her face in his hand, stroking his thumb delicately across her cheek. The tension from last night and the entire day slipped away as she closed her eyes and leaned into his touch, sighing softly. "Today was horrible."

"I know," he replied tenderly. "Sorry about that."

Rory brought her hand up to his on her face; opened her eyes and met his. Blue on blue. She shivered deliciously. "It wasn't all your fault." 

"I'd still like to make it up to you," he answered with a shrug, twining their hands together and pulling her closer so that her body gently collided with his, making her gasp at the contact. He lowered his voice and they ignored the people who walked by and giggled at their display. He trailed his lips down the side of her face. "Just me, you and the moonlight."

She wondered how he'd look in the moonlight, and imagined that he'd look even more handsome, if it was possible. She smiled a little and nodded. "That sounds nice." 

"I'll pick you up at six-thirty?"

"Okay, it's a date," she answered with a big smile. "What do I wear?"

He glanced down at her and then back up, smirking a little and making her blush. "Well, if it were up to me, you wouldn't be in it too long for it to matter." She swatted him on the chest and he chuckled. "Not too formal, not too casual." 

"Got it." She nodded and he pulled away and ran a hand through his hair. "Tristan?"

"Yeah?"

"We still need to talk."

"I know." He leaned forward and brushed his lips across her forehead. "I'll see you tonight." 

~*~ ~*~ ~*~

That night, over dinner in a fancy Japanese restaurant where they sat cross-legged on cushions the floor and tried to eat with chopsticks, they did just that.

Rory had initiated most of the conversations while they sampled the appetizers and gagged after tasting the sushi. But once she managed to veer the topic conversation to deeper things, such as, family and friends – she let Tristan do all the talking. He had been privy to a lot of her personal life ever since they had started to date while she had remained at arms' length about his own. 

She started off by getting him to talk about the little things: his favorite color, fondest memory and even his most embarrassing moment (which had caused her to spit out her Pepsi). 

But she had only cracked the surface, in her mind.

"So," she said as she cut into her Hibachi steak, "Do you miss LA?" It was best to bring up that subject in the flow of conversation so it didn't sound too much like she was prying. 

He shrugged, chewed and wiped the corner of his mouth with napkin. "Sometimes."

"Feel free to be more vague."

He smiled and laid his fork down on the table. "I miss not being by myself."

She nodded slowly, not fully understanding him. "I never figured you for someone who likes to keep to themselves."

"I don't – not always. Maybe I should be a little more clear: I liked being away from my parents."

"Oh," she said and chased a mushroom around in her plate with her chopsticks. "Is it really that bad that you needed to put an entire country between you and them?"

"Yeah," he answered, meeting her gaze. "It was that bad. It's not that unusual, Rory. Doesn't every child want to leave the house when they're our age? Isn't that what dorming is all about? An escape from your parents, from that house you grew too big for?"

"Tristan, you live in a mansion," she joked, taking a sip of her drink. "But I get it. Once after Dean, uh when…"

"After Dean and you broke up?" he supplied with a grin.

"Yeah, after we broke up the first time, I was just so stressed with schoolwork, Mom was dating Mr. Medina again and Lane and Dean ended up being study partners and it was very…disconcerting. I needed to get out of Stars Hollow and away from my mother. So I went to my grandparent's house for the night."

"But your mom probably came to pick you up the next morning and all was well?" he finished dryly for her. "Yeah, all I got was a call from my father reminding me to behave."

She frowned slightly. "I didn't mean- "

"I know," he cut her off with a sigh. "I'm sorry. I'm not trying to pull some poor little rich boy routine here, Rory. It's just that…some parent/child relationships aren't just cut out to work a certain way. Your mom is your best friend and a lot of that has to do with the fact that she had you when she was sixteen and it's just been the two of you ever since, right?"

"Yes that's part of it, I guess."

"And the two of you are just dreading the time you move to Boston to fulfill your dream of Harvard," he stated and she smiled because he used "when" and not "if" in regards to her dream; there was a warmth spreading through her. "Rory, can I tell you something honestly?"

"Please." She took a sip of her drink; her throat felt dry.

"I know you didn't understand it, but that's why Paris was the way she was when you first met her," he informed her. "She was jealous of you. Because you were everything she was _and_ you seemed to be so comfortable in your own skin."

"But I'm not always," she protested, a little hurt. "I freak out all the time, you know that. She knows that."

"She does now. But you still have a whole lot going for you, Rory. And to be perfectly honest, I envied you too."

Her eyes grew big. "You did?" 

He nodded and smiled apologetically. "Why do you think I bugged the hell out of you? You came from what seemed like this perfect world. Not to mention the damage you caused my ego."

"Well, I'm not perfect," she replied indignantly, ignoring his last comment.

"I know that now," he answered and she threw her napkin at him. The waiter came up to refill their glasses and Tristan asked for the dessert menu. "You know, I don't think I ever had this much fun just _talking_ on a date before."

"As opposed to when you just neck in the back rows of the movie theatre?"

"I choose not to answer that question. I fear for my life," he teased and glanced at the menu. "Dessert?"

"Do they have cheesecake?" she asked eagerly, leaning forward. 

~*~ ~*~ ~*~

After dinner, they walked down the streets of downtown Hartford, talking about Tristan's life in Los Angeles. He told her the story of how he met Joe Walker and she made a few jokes about him attending a public school.

They lapsed into an easy silence and he realized he had never felt this comfortable with a girl before – never felt this kind of camaraderie for a girl while he lusted after her.

"Four," he said suddenly, breaking the silence. She glanced up at him startled and confused, her brows furrowing. He met her gaze and nodded slowly. "The answer to your question from yesterday afternoon."

"Oh," she replied and when the weight of what he was telling her hit her, "oh!" 

"Yeah," he stated, letting out a deep breath. It hadn't been as hard as he imagined but he figured the actual number wasn't as foreboding the sex itself. "And I've been thinking about why I threw that temper tantrum last night and the truth is, I wasn't really angry with you. I had no reason to be."

"Then was it your mom?"

"Oh that's a different issue altogether," he stated with a self-deprecating grin. "When you asked that question, I just…I don't know what the word for it is…"

"Drew back?" she supplied helpfully as they sat down on a nearby bench.

"And I don't know why," he replied with a shrug as he leaned forward on the bench. "Rory, there's something you have to know. I don't wish that I had never slept with those girls and I'm not apologetic for not being a virgin."

"I don't expect you to be," she murmured, her tone understanding. "Is that why you blew up at me? Because you thought I would judge you?"

He nodded and tried to clarify. "I know what kind of a girl you are, Rory."

She looked slightly offended. "What kind of girl is that?"

"You're a Mary," he answered honestly when she opened her mouth to protest, he simply raised an eyebrow. "The thought of sex makes you squeamish." 

He watched as her cheeks turned red, even under the dim light coming from the lamppost. "Of all the…Tristan, I cannot believe you just said that to me. If you had any idea of what has been running through my head ever since you kissed me in my kitchen then you'd think twice about categorizing me." Her revelation made him smile; he couldn't help it. "Don't grin at me, you idiot. What did you think I was? Immune? Jesus, Tristan, I'm human."

"I know that," he protested as he grabbed her wildly gesturing hands, as she called him names under her breath.

"And, if you haven't noticed," she continued to rant, ignoring him, "I've been throwing myself at you for the last couple of weeks, every chance we get alone together. Just because I haven't had sex, doesn't mean I don't think about. My mother is worried about me because she thinks I have already slept with you. So don't give me your crap." 

"I may have overreacted," he conceded. He tugged at her hands to get her to look at him and when she did, he took in a deep breath. "It's different with you, Rory. Even having this kind of conversation is a new concept."

"That's makes two of us."

"I know you're not ready for where this relationship will lead us and I underst-"

"Maybe I'm not," she answered, her tone less harsh. "I'm not apologetic for being a virgin, either." 

He knew that, it was something he liked so much about her – she wouldn't compromise her beliefs and principles for anyone. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "That leaves us on opposite sides of the spectrum, doesn't it?"

She rolled her eyes. "Well I don't wanna be a virgin forever, Tristan." 

He didn't know exactly what he was supposed to say to that. "Oh well. That's good."

Rory laughed and touched his shoulder, gently nudging him to look her. When he did, she smiled softly and he could tell that she was trying hard to say something but was having trouble with the words. "Tristan," she started slowly and then glared at him when he started to grin. "I know we're different people. I'll be the first to point it out. But tonight, listening to you talk about your grandfather, your parents, your life in LA…it was nice. Very nice."

He understood that, had felt that way all through dinner. Once he had started talking, she had been listening so intently. She laughed at every single embarrassing moment he had shared and her face seemed to light up with a genuine smile when he told her about how happy he was in Los Angeles. "Yeah, it was better than nice."

She smiled, then cleared her throat and glanced away. "So you're comfortable sharing that kind of stuff with me?"

"Yeah, I guess so."

"Well then," she took in a deep breath and met his gaze once again, "tell me about those girls."

"What?" he asked, startled. He wasn't sure he had heard her quite right. "You're kidding."

"Well, if we're going to keep to the theme of honesty tonight, why not?" she asked with a shrug. "And I'm not asking for sordid details or anything. I just want you to feel like you can tell me. There's more to a relationship than just making out – not that the making out is bad or anything. It's not even in close. In fact, I enjoy the making out immen- "

Tristan covered her mouth with his hand and grinned. "I get the point, Rory."

"Sorry," she mumbled as he took his hand away. "You don't have to tell me now, if you're not up to it."

He sighed and leaned back against the bench. "Now is a good time as any, I guess."


	33. Chapter 33: Sex & Love

Chapter 33: Sex & Love 

Dating her would be different; Tristan knew that. Hell, part of the reason he had wanted her so badly was because of that very reason. After all, it had been a long time since a girl had intrigued him. Sure, he knew a lot of attractive girls, a lot of smart ones and they had all made him feel like any normal, red-blooded male going through puberty would feel.

Rory struck a deeper chord within him. One that reverberated even while he was in LA, when he allowed himself the luxury of thinking of her - however fleetingly. He just never imagined she would be the girl he'd be talking to about his sexual experience. 

"I don't know where to start," he stated, chuckling nervously and then running a hand through his hair. He supposed he could start with the first girl he ever slept with. _Good times_, he thought with a wolfish grin.

Rory rolled her eyes and settled back on the bench, looking up briefly as someone passed. "I think you figured that out all on your own."

"Okay," he started and opened his mouth, to start. When he gazed at her, blue eyes wide and expectant, he closed it again and thought he better rethink his words so they didn't sound like something he would share in the locker room. "Her name was Angelique, which was ironic because she definitely did not live up to her name." 

"I'll bet." 

He ignored her derision and continued, getting lost in the memory of the French heiress. "I was spending the summer between eighth and ninth grade with my parents in France – that is when we still vacationed together - and her parents were our host. I was almost fourteen and she was a sixteen year old blonde-haired, blue eyed goddess."

"Blonde," Rory said distastefully. "I should have known. Wait, did you say fourteen? You were fourteen when you lost…"

He gave her a sheepish grin and shrugged. "What can I say? Look if this is getting a little too uncomfortable for you I can stop."

She let out an irritated sigh and crossed her arms in a universal sign on defensiveness. "Why do you automatically assume you're imposing on my delicate sensibilities?"

"Because I can practically hear the judgment in your voice," he stated, cocking an eyebrow in her direction.

"It wasn't judgment," she protested with a pout and he momentarily forgot that they were discussing Angelique and focused on her lips. Did she even know that she held that kind of power over him: to make him forget anyone and anything? He glanced up at her flushed face and figured she didn't have a clue. "It was just surprise. I was fourteen once and I just can't imagine…" she waved her hand in front of her, "you know, at that age."  

"Well of course not," he nodded his head in mock seriousness and tugged at the hair that had come loose from the worm-like thing that girls tied their hair with. "I mean, then I imagine you wouldn't have had time for all those books."

She swatted his hand away and tried unsuccessfully to hold back a smile. "Go on."

"Let's walk back to the car," he said as he stood, pulling her up with him. "It's a long way back and I don't want to be sitting here in the cold forever."

Rory rolled her eyes even though she clung to his arm, offering her own body heat. "Well, it won' take forever if you quit stalling. Come on, I believe you left off at Angelique the younger-man-loving French goddess." 

He sighed; he wasn't totally comfortable sharing this with Rory. As much as she assured him that she was okay with it, he knew that she was a virgin and being so, she hadn't a clue about what sex was really like. As much as the media enhanced it, no one could really know what it was like without actually experiencing it. Remembering his first time (maybe not the actual act but the events before and after), he could tell with absolute certainty that sex wasn't always as romantic as television and music it made it out to be.

He certainly didn't want to screw up his relationship with Rory because of his sex life. 

"I was infatuated and flattered. I mean, I wasn't as devilishly handsome back then as I am now," he joked, pulling her closer. She gave him another 'yeah right' look and giggled. "Anyway, we spent most of the summer together. And then one afternoon, while our parents were away, I went with her to her bedroom a boy and came out a man." 

"Well, that was pretty technical," she stated after a pause.

He had purposely decided not to sugar coat it. "Sex for the first time often is."

"So that was it?" she asked dubiously. "You just slept with an older girl because you had the house to yourselves and she was beautiful and willing?" 

"That's all it takes, most of the time." Damn it, why did she make him feel like it was wrong? After all, it had been years ago and he had lost that layer of innocence because at the time it had felt like it was the only thing that mattered. He watched as she chewed on her bottom lip and he could almost hear all the questions she wanted to ask but wasn't sure she could. He made it easier for her. "There were feelings there too, Rory."

"Did you love her?" she asked automatically. 

"No, I didn't," he replied honestly as the reached the parking lot. "I was fourteen, Gilmore. How was I supposed to know what love was? Can you honestly tell me that you know what it is, even now? After Dean?"

Her eyes flew to his at that and he immediately wished that he hadn't asked that particular question. As they stopped near his BMW, she took a few breaths and he could tell she was choosing her words carefully. "I loved Dean, yes. Was it the kind of love that lasts a lifetime? Obviously not."

He dug into his hands into his trousers and played with the key chain in one hand. The question he wanted to ask her was going to be a tough one. "Was it the kind of love that would lead you into a bedroom when you had the house to yourself, if it had lasted longer?" 

"No." The certainty and quickness of the answer had him sighing in relief. "I guess it just wasn't meant to be for us. Not like that, anyway."

They stood, awkwardly for a minute, before he motioned for them to get into the car. Lost in his thoughts, he forgot to open the door for her and slid into the driver's seat as she slipped in beside him. He put his key in the ignition before turning to her, abruptly. 

"It wasn't like I didn't care about Angelique, Rory. I did. So much that she was all I thought about when I got back to the States. I was a kid who'd just lost his virginity to a sixteen year old so I was a little swept away. In fact, _she_ was the one to end our…whatever." If he was going to have to tell her he got dumped then he might as well lay it all out for her. "When I heard that her family was coming to visit for Christmas I was excited."

A small grin flitted over her face. "Naturally."

He gave her a withering glare and then burst into a shout of laughter. "Yes, okay, I was. I had absolutely no control back then. But she didn't come with her parents and instead sent me a letter. A very polite, friendly letter. She had met some brainy French college student and she was spending the summer with him. She didn't even acknowledge whatever it was between us."

"You must've been crushed," she asked, forehead creasing. "That would have been awful."

He lifted a shoulder in a careless shrug, shifting in his seat. "I was hurt but I think my ego was hurt more than my heart. I _am_ a guy."

Her eyes flicked casually over his frame. "As if I could forget."

A knowing smile curved his lips and he reached for her, leaned over the gears and brought his hand to curve behind her head. Instinctively, she responded and moved closer, meeting him halfway. Their lips brushed softly, once, twice and three times before he changed the angle, slanting his lips over hers, ruthlessly prying them open with his tongue. Her response was immediately; she allowed him entrance then delved her fingers into his hair, softly moaning. That was enough to snap any control he had just claimed to posses and he hauled her over the gears and onto his lap, without breaking the kiss.

The kiss deepened and he trailed his hands under her jacket and up her sides, lingering a little on the side of her breasts, before coming to rest at her nape. She started to giggle and he pulled away, looking up at her curiously. "What?"

"My butt's on the steering wheel," she whispered through bruised lips. "If you don't watch it I might just hit the horn." She was the only girl he knew that could make him laugh when he had only wanted to make out. Closing his eyes, he rested his head against her shoulder, as she trailed her hands through his hair and softly kissed the side of his face. "Tristan?"

"Yeah?" he asked, pushing her coat off her shoulder as she settled comfortable on his lap.

"Don't think you're making me forget about the three other girls." 

"Damn," he swore softly and then grinned. "Maybe I should try again."

This time, she stopped him by placing the palms of her hands firmly on his chest, pushing him away. Then, she scrambled out f his lap and back onto the passenger seat before he could grab her to keep her steady. "No! No more kissing. In fact, I think we should stop kissing all together."

"What?"

"For an indefinite but small amount of time," she stated, as she reached for her belt buckle. "I mean it's the kissing that's the problem."

"I have to disagree," he replied, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "And what problem?"

"The lack of communication, the fighting. It's because we kiss too much."

Taken aback, he reached for the key in the ignition. She was now objecting to kissing? How the hell was he supposed to keep his hands off of her? After the way she had responded to him, he knew that she had been entertaining thoughts of taking it further. It was obvious. So how in the hell did she expect to be his girlfriend and not make out? If she was trying his control, testing him, he was going to make sure that she knew exactly how ridiculous this 'no kissing' rule was. How impossible.

Even though he wanted to strangle her, his voice came out even. "Okay."

Her brows furrowed, apparently she had been expecting a row. "Okay?"

"That's what I said," he replied and turned the key, the engine purring to life. "I'm certainly not going to kiss you if you don't want me to." 

"You're mad."

"No," he replied as he pulled out into the street. "I'm not mad. Just curious."

"About what?" 

"About why you want me to share my experiences with you and you won't even let me kiss you now," he replied, glancing at her briefly before returning his eyes to the road ahead. "Is it because I told you about Angelique that you pulled away?"

"Yes. No. Partly."

She was chewing on her lip again and he forced himself to look away. "I knew telling you would be a mistake." 

"No, the other half of it because when you kiss me I can't think straight!" Her voice implored him to understand as she turned to him fully. "I need to process what you told me because I can't think about sex as _technically_ as you can, okay? I mean, I know it might be naïve and innocent of me to think of it as something special – especially considering the way I was conceived – but I just can't help how I feel."

"Do you think it would be easier if I was a virgin?"

Her lips twisted wryly at that. "Now there's a thought. But seriously, Tristan, this isn't about you and your…uh, prowess. It's about me having to, uh, measure up to…all the Angeliques."

It was becoming clearer to him; although he wasn't sure why she thought he didn't love kissing in her. Maybe he wasn't doing something right. "Rory, there's no comparison going on in my head, if that's what you're worried about. There's no contest." 

Rory looked away and out the window, as Hartford passed them by. "So who was candidate number two?" 

She was so damn stubborn that he hated how much he liked that about her. Resigning to his fate, he easily switched lanes and recalled his second and mores serious tryst with the opposite sex. "Mirabelle Worthington."

"Another uncommon and exotic name," she remarked cheerfully. 

He simply arched his eyebrow. "You should know, _Lorelai_. Everyone called her Belle, except me. The funny thing about it was, I had known of her existence since the fifth grade. It's just that I hadn't noticed her until after Christmas break during our freshman year."

"I don't follow."

Tristan grinned cheekily. "She was a late bloomer, so to speak. Then all of sudden, she started taking care of the way she looked. I mean those uniforms don't do half the girls in that school any justice but Mira seemed to have transformed over the break. She wore her hair loose and even lost the blazer once in awhile."

"Wait, she goes to Chilton?"

"Went," he replied, feeling a quick stab of loss that he didn't know still existed. "She moved just before you came to Chilton."

"Oh." She shifted in her seat. "How long were the two of you together?"

"The remainder of freshman year and a few weeks into the summer," he replied, exhaling deeply. Mirabelle had been the first girl he had ever had strong feelings for that went beyond lust. He didn't know if he loved her, maybe in some ways he did, but he had been broken a little when she left. "We write and email when we can. A lot in the beginning but now not so much."

"You cared about her," she said it like she was surprised. "I'm sorry, I know it sounds horrible but I just didn't ever picture you with a steady girlfriend before."

Even though he wanted to be bitter about the way she saw him, he knew that he couldn't be. She hadn't really known him; he wouldn't let her. "It's okay. It's true enough; I was never serious about a girl. Not before Mira and not until you."

As he stopped at a red light, he met her gaze and held it so she could see, without a doubt that he was sincere. "Oh."

"Anyway, girl number three will definitely attest to my uh, player ways, if you will. So much so that I don't even know her last name," he glanced at her to gauge her reaction but her expression was simply curious. "We met a party, I was hurting over Mira and my grandfather was seriously ill; Noelle provided some much needed comfort. It started there and ended there."

"This was what," she bit her lip as she calculated, "the beginning of sophomore year?"

He smiled at her and took the exit for Stars Hollow. If he was going to talk about feelings and lust, he might as well mention everyone he had wanted. "Right before you walked into my life."

She nodded a little and then leaned back against the interior. "Well, I know who number four is then. It was Summer, wasn't it?"


	34. Chapter 34: No Illusions

**Dedication: **To Surya, who deserves lovely little shout-outs as often as possible. To Susie and Tayce, the best betas a girl could ask for.

**Author's Note: **I just wanted to clear up this whole "Tristan's slept with four girls thing". While it is conceivable that he would have had more, I thought four was an appropriate number for the purpose of my story. Keep in mind that just because he had four girls, doesn't mean he had sex four times.

Chapter 34: No Illusions 

"Shows how much you know," Tristan snapped, rolling his eyes as a look of distaste took over his features. "No, it wasn't Summer."

To stop the huge sigh of relief that was ready to escape her lips, Rory drew her lower lip between her teeth and tried to remain impassive. All throughout his narration she had mostly kept quiet, not dwelling on the information he had imparted on her because she wasn't entirely too sure how to deal with it. She had even had to remind herself to be open-minded and fair as he talked about his experience. _I'm not the only girl with a boyfriend who has had sex with girls before her, _she chided herself strictly. _Grow up, Rory. _Still it had been hard not to feel anything but she managed not to let him know. 

"I'm sorry," she said with some deliberation. "The way you two were all over each other… I just assumed- "

"Summer was a distraction," he cut her off, giving her a pointed look. He parked the car in her driveway and shut off the engine and fixed that intense blue gaze on her. Even in the dimness, she could see the honesty in his eyes and felt something hot rise in her throat. "I couldn't have you so I needed someone to take my frustrations out on. Summer was willing and convenient."

She really didn't know what to say to that so she swallowed past the lump and met his gaze nervously. "Oh."

He searched her face for a minute and then shrugged. "Good thing I didn't sleep with her considering the way we ended. I may be sex-crazed Gilmore, but I have standards. We weren't even together long enough."

She undid her seatbelt and settled back into the seat. Her gaze flickered over to her house and she saw the curtains in the living room moving quickly and smiled inwardly, knowing that Lorelai had been watching. She cleared her throat and turned her attention back to Tristan. "So then, who's girl number four?" 

He sighed again, resignedly. "Apryl. She was my sort-of-girlfriend in LA."

"Sort-of-girlfriend?"

"She didn't want to put a label on our relationship," he said, grinning almost wistfully. She ignored it and turned away, folding her hands neatly on her lap. "She was somewhat of a… free spirit. We had fun together. She was certainly not my type."

"Why not?" Rory asked quietly. So far, none of his girlfriend had actually fitted in one category that could be defined as a 'type'. All of them had been different. 

"I don't know. She wasn't drop dead gorgeous. Don't get me wrong, she was very easy on the eyes but her beauty wasn't… groomed. She had dirty blond hair that was always pulled back in a ponytail and smelled of the ocean. She surfed. And I mean, Kate Bosworth in _Blue Crush_ type of surfing." Rory nodded slowly and couldn't help thinking that all the surfing probably made her body very… _athletic_. "If she wasn't in a body glove, she was in shorts and a faded tee. It was even surprising to me that I found her attractive."

Subconsciously, Rory ran a hand through her own hair and felt claustrophobic. She nodded slowly and unlocked the door, stepping out onto the grass of her front yard. It was familiar and comforting. She shut the door behind her and walked to the porch. Seconds later, she heard the beep of the automatic locks.

When Tristan came to stand behind her, she turned, hugging her coat tighter to her body. His expression was unreadable but she knew he was waiting for her to say something. "She sounds nice."

He nodded levelly and the stared down at the ground between them. Something had shifted in their relationship, very subtly and very strikingly. As if it was something tangible and they could almost feel it between them. She had known that asking him about those girls was a big step for both of them and she almost… "Do you regret hearing it?"

Startled, Rory stared at him, not knowing what to say. It was scary how easily he had read her thoughts. She shifted her weight and dug her hands further into the pockets of her coat. "I'm still absorbing all of it. I mean, you think you want to know something and then when you hear it, you wonder what it would be like if you didn't ask. And you know that you can't go back so you're kind of left facing it but you're not sure what to do with what you know. Am I making any sense at all?"

The corner of his mouth lifted in a half smile and he took a step closer, pulling her right hand out of her coat pocket and holding it in his. "I understand. But still, I'm kind of glad I told you. If this thing… whatever it is between us is ever going to last, I don't want there to be too many illusions between us 'cause they're not real."

It was her turn to smile and she entwined her fingers with his, closing the remaining distance between them so that her body was softly pressed against his own. Real. That was such a nice way to describe it. He had used it before and she was beginning to like the rawness of that word. "No, they're not."

"So, someone's birthday is coming up."

Her eyes grew wide and she gave a happy little squeal. "You remembered!"

He rolled his eyes. "Of course, I did. What do you take me for?"

"A guy," she answered glibly. She reached up and twined her arms around his neck and his own arms settled loosely around her waist as he grinned. "A very nice guy."

"I assume Lorelai has big plans for the big day."

"There's a party. It's a Sunday so it starts early. Grandma and Grandpa are coming," Rory replied with a big smile. It had been a long time since she'd actually been giddy about an upcoming birthday. "You'll be there, right?"

"Wouldn't miss it for the world," he answered sincerely, a hint of a smile on his face. Her gaze rested on his mouth and she felt her own going dry. Her tongue shot out to moisten them and he reached up to take her right hand in his own again. "Rory, does this no kissing rule apply to goodnight kisses as well?"

The tinge of amusement in Tristan's voice had her giggling. "I'm afraid so." 

He let out a soft groan of disappointment. "Damn. Well then, I guess we're going to have to settle for this." He proceeded to lift her right hand to his mouth and then softly grazed his lips over her knuckles before giving them a swift, naughty lick. "Goodnight Gilmore."

He dropped her hand and took a step away, regarding her with what could only be described as barely controlled desire. She felt the shivering response of her body to his gaze and gripped the railing behind her to steady herself. "Goodnight Tristan."

Before she could completely collect herself, he was driving away.

~*~ ~*~ ~*~ 

"He didn't kiss her goodnight," Lorelai informed Christopher as she joined him on the couch, handing him a cup of coffee. Rory had returned from her date and after making small talk with her parents, she retreated to her room with a cryptic explanation about needing time to think. "They were talking – about something that looked really serious – and then he just left without a kiss on the lips."

"Since when did you start spying so avidly on our daughter?" he asked, a little amused.

"Since she started showing interest in the opposite sex," Lorelai retorted before taking a sip of her own coffee. "She never told me about Dean, you know. I found out at her sixteenth birthday party when I just happened to walk by the window and intruded on a private moment. Oh but it was all innocence with Dean. Her eighteenth is coming up and I don't want to intrude on something else that isn't so innocent with Tristan." 

"He's not a bad kid," Christopher defended, remembering what it was like to be driven by hormones at that age. And it was with the woman sitting beside him now that had made him go crazy.

Lorelai let out an unladylike snort. "Yeah and the Pope's Jewish." 

Christopher looked at her, surprised. "You've already made him out to be the culprit, haven't you? In your mind he's guilty until proven guilty."

Lorelai set the mug down on the coffee table. "I'm surprised that you haven't."

"Lor, has it ever once crossed your mind that Rory is just as guilty of what you're accusing Tristan of? Which is, essentially, being a typical teenager?" he argued as he turned on the couch to face her. 

"I should have known you'd see it from that point of view," she replied, her eyes narrowing. "I can't say I'm not disappointed."

"Excuse me," he shot back, his temper flaring. "What exactly are you implying, Lorelai? Because if we're going to play the game of 'Who's More Immature', I want to have a level field. Because from where I'm standing, you're not sounding too much like an adult."

"Ha!" Lorelai replied, leaping to her feet. "I'm not an adult? You're the juvenile one if you think that it's okay for Tristan to sleep with our daughter. Why don't you just go and drop Rory off at the DuGrey mansion for the night, Christopher? I'm sure he'll love that."

"I'm not condoning any type of behavior," he replied through gritted teeth, trying to keep his voice low so they wouldn't disturb Rory. "I'm just trying to bring a more realistic perspective to your narrow-mindedness."

"Narrow-mindedness?" she almost shrieked, obviously not caring if Rory was roused out of her sleep to the sound of her parents yelling at each other. "Wanting to keep my daughter safe from boys like Tristan is narrow-mindedness? Do you even have a clue as to what parenting entails, Chris?" 

In an effort to calm her down, he grabbed her flailing arms and lowered his voice to an angry hiss. "Stop and think for a second, Lorelai! Open your eyes and look at your daughter for just one second. She's a teenager and she's not perfect. Rory _likes_ this guy, Lorelai. In a different way than she liked Dean. And it's very real. He's not tricking her into anything. She's with him because she wants to be." 

After a pause and much glaring, Lorelai sighed frustrated. "I know that." 

He let go of her hands and stuffed his into the pockets of his trousers. There was a heavy silence between them as he contemplated his next words. "I just think that when you look at her, you see yourself at sixteen and pregnant. Don't you think I see that too? Remember what that was like? The entire hell of it?"

"Exactly," she said quickly, folding her arms over her chest. "It was hell. She can't go through that, Chris. She's so much better than that." 

He sighed loudly. "I don't even want to think about where she and Tristan are… headed. But I also remember what it was like to be sixteen and completely crazy about you."

"Christopher-"

He held up his hand to silence her and, surprisingly, it worked. "Lor, what happened with us doesn't have to happen with them."

"God, she sounded exactly like you when she said the same thing to me."

His lips quirked into a half-hearted smile and he shrugged. "And if you keep trying to remind her of the consequences of her actions, like you're some nun, then you're going to push her further away. You don't want that."

Lorelai buried her head into her hands and groaned. "I'm turning into my mother."

"A little bit," he admitted with a teasing grin. She punched him in the arm and then let him hug her. "You're the cool mom that every kid wants. I know it's going to be tough but you have got to let her grow up and out of this little world the two of you have created. She'll be in college soon, Lor. You'll need the practice." 

"When did you get so levelheaded?" Lorelai asked as she returned the hug. He laughed into her hair as a reply and she sighed, pulled out of his embrace and fixed those mesmerizing blue eyes on his. "I want to keep her safe from the ugliness."

He smiled, understandingly. "I know. We both do." 

~*~ ~*~ ~*~

"Morning Paris," Tristan greeted the blonde near her locker the next day, just as he spotted Rory walking towards it. 

The no kissing rule she had imposed had wreaked havoc on his hormones and he had spent the better part of the night in an agitated state of… frustration. He had barely gotten any sleep and when he finally did out of sheer exhaustion, the dreams were vivid enough to… well; to spare himself the embarrassment of having the maid change his sheets, he did it himself.

While he was feeling lethargic, Rory looked rosy and fresh – as if the lack of tonguing wasn't bothering her at all.

_Well, two can play that game_. In an exaggerated gesture, he spun Paris around and pulled her into a hug, which completely caught her by surprise. She yelped and gripped his shoulders. "You're looking lovely." 

"Jesus," Paris said, as she pushed him off her. "What has gotten into you?"

Behind them, Rory rolled her eyes and played with her combination lock. "Don't worry, Paris. He's just being obnoxious."

"What?" he replied irritably, even though he was grinning. "A guy can't hug a girl anymore?" 

"Hug your girlfriend," Paris snorted and finished unloading her books.

Madeline and Louise came up behind Tristan, looking curious. "What's going on?"

"Tristan's gone soft," Rory smirked, as she slung her backpack over her shoulder. "He's giving everyone free hugs."

"Ooh, I'll take one," Madeline chirped and opened her arms.

Tristan smiled graciously as he accepted her hug. "Madeline, always a pleasure. And may I add you look extremely beautiful?" Louise was next, and she took pleasure in lingering longer than necessary. Tristan grinned at her knowingly before Rory grabbed his hand and dragged him away. "Have a nice day, ladies." 

"You're pathetic," Rory informed him as they trudged down the hall.

He frowned, offended. "I'm friendly."

"That display was obviously for my benefit."

"So you did notice!" he stated with a chuckle. "Hey, you're the one that imposed the no kissing rule. I need to get affection from somewhere, don't I?"

"Go ahead," she relented playfully. "Hug all the girls you want, DuGrey."

He slung his arm around her shoulder companionably. They rounded the corner and stopped in front of Rory's homeroom. "You're the coolest girlfriend ever. I think Roxanne Hart just broke up with her boyfriend; she probably needs a shoulder to cry on. Lucky for her, I have two."

The bell rang as Rory's eyes widened in surprise. "What?"

"I'm just going to go give her a hug. You said that's okay right?" He looked at her innocently as he backed away. "I'll see you at lunch, Mary."


	35. Chapter 35: Playing With Fire

Chapter 35: Playing With Fire

"Okay," Paris said as she caught up with Tristan in the hallways, right before lunch. "What the hell is going on with you?"

Tristan adopted his innocent expression. "What ever do you mean, Gellar?"

She rolled her eyes and smacked him on the arm. "You and the hugging thing."

"Oh that." He grinned and tucked a pencil behind his ear, as a curvy brunette passed him; he smiled flirtatiously and waved at her. "Rory won't let me kiss her."

"What?"

"You heard me," he snapped back, loosening his tie, a little uncomfortably. He wasn't used to telling people that his girlfriend didn't want to make out with him. In fact, public displays of affection were his specialty. Well they were, until Rory Gilmore stepped into his life. Damn her. "It's a long story."

Paris smirked as they weaved their way through the crowd. "It's a long way to the cafeteria."

He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. What was with girls and sharing? "Last night I told her about stuff."

"Stuff involving?"

He leaned down to whisper in her ear. "Involving my sex life."

Paris colored a little as he drew away and it was his turn to smirk. Mariano still had a long way to go with her. Paris hugged the textbook to her chest a little bit tighter and avoided looking him in the eye as she spoke, "So, you told her…about Mirabelle?"

"Yeah. Apparently, if we care enough, we tend to share," he replied with a self-deprecating grin. "It was a weird experience, nonetheless. Anyway, that's when she imposed the no kissing rule." 

"Ouch."

"Bingo," he stated with a sigh. "That's what the hugging was about."

"Of course." She was smiling again as they entered the cafeteria, immediately joining the line for food. "You know it's not going to work. The two of you don't even like each other half the time. Kissing is all you have." 

"That's what she's worried about."

"You're not?" Paris asked and then seemed to hear her own words, because she scoffed. "Oh wait, I forgot. You're a guy. Don't answer that. Anyway, back to the hugging. That is never going to work, you know."

He grinned knowing as he helped himself to a snack pack of chocolate pudding. "Oh, I know. That's why I plan on pulling out the big guns." She looked up at him, perplexed. "Patience, my friend. Just wait and see." 

Paris studied him for a second and then nodded, amused. "Oh this is going to be good."

"Hey, I thought you liked her now."

"Yeah, but the girl needs to be shaken once in awhile." 

Tristan laughed as the two of them headed for the lunch table where Rory, Madeline and Louise were sitting. "You know, Paris, one day you and I will rule the world." 

"I thought I was going to rule by your side," Rory pouted as he took a seat beside her, kissing the top of her head on the way down. "We had plans."

Madeline giggled at the absurdity and Louise let out a sigh in mock boredom, although the corner of her mouth was twitching upwards. Tristan put his hand on hers, patting it soothingly. "I'm sorry, Gilmore. Paris is just better with the evil plotting." 

"This is true," Rory replied, taking a sip of her juice.

"I'm sitting right here," Paris piped up dryly.

As Louise steered the conversation away from the childishness and started to complain about the latest English paper, Tristan let his gaze fall upon his girlfriend, who didn't seem to mind holding his hand while she ate with the other one. In fact, he suspected that she had unconsciously curled her own around his, without realizing it. 

He grinned inwardly thinking that she was completely unaware of the plans he had to take the physical contact much further than simple hand holding.

Almost imperceptibly, he let go of her hand and stroked her knuckles with his thumb so that it looked like it was subconscious on his part. She glanced at him, smiled and then returned to the conversation, staunchly defending Mrs. Robertson's position on the length of the paper. Glad that she was preoccupied, he let his fingers trail to her wrist and then back up again. 

Once. Twice. He felt her shudder.

He knew she was pretending not to notice, so he took the opportunity to run his hand up the sleeve of her blazer and then up around her shoulder and softly down her back. He watched her closely and knew that she was anticipating that his hand would travel down the last couple of inches and rest on her rear. Unpredictability was one of his talents, so he completely stopped touching her and reached into his bag of potato chips. 

He could practically feel the disappointment radiating off of her and he had to suppress a pleased smirk.

After munching on a few chips and then taking a swig of his juice, he discreetly placed his hand on her knee, giving it a small squeeze. Rory stopped mid-sentence and tensed a bit before shooting him a warning look. He merely ignored it and offered his opinion on the subject of cafeteria food the girls had somehow managed to stumble upon.

Tristan let his fingers circle around her knee-cap, slowly. 

"Rory?" Paris asked, snapping the brunette out of whatever haze she'd worked herself into. "I asked you if you wanted my Cheetos."  

"Uh yeah, sure," she replied, unsteadily. "Sorry."

As Rory reached over to take the packet of Cheetos off of Paris' tray, Tristan slid his fingers underneath her knee, scraping his blunt nails over her soft skin before bringing them back up and skimming upwards. She let out a little yelp and banged her knee against the tabletop.

"Are you okay?" Tristan asked her, innocently.

She glared at him and her lips formed a straight line. "I'm fine."

Paris arched a brow in his direction before addressing Rory. "You seem jumpy."

"I'm not," Rory replied as Tristan hand traveled higher up her thigh, skimming his fingers just under the hem of her skirt. "Why would I be jumpy?"

"No reason at all," Tristan agreed and pressed the heel of his palm into her thigh. Unconsciously, she spread her legs open, just a little giving him easier access. Amused, he obliged and trailed a finger up; almost to her groin. 

Madeline, Louise and Paris chatted away, oblivious to the red flush covering Rory's cheeks and neck because of Tristan's ministrations. She leaned in closer and hissed, "Stop that."

"But you like it," he answered petulantly. To prove it to her, his finger grazed her inner thigh and just stopped, inches away from the cotton swatch of her panties. She almost moaned. "See?"

"Yes, someone _will_ see us," she whispered fiercely. Her protest only made him more ambitious. This time, he let all four fingers trail up to her and then, in a swift motion, his knuckles confidently grazed over the cotton, in a featherlike touch. She gasped, loudly this time, earning funny looks from people around them.

Quickly, he retracted his hand and put on a mask of blamelessness.

"What is up with you Gilmore?" Louise asked, looking slightly concerned.

"Nothing," Rory said quickly as she backed away from the table. "I just need to go, uh…pee. Be right back."

As she bolted out of the cafeteria, Madeline turned to the group, confused. "That was weird."

Tristan smiled and continued to finish his lunch.

~*~ ~*~ ~*~ 

Rory dabbed her face with a paper towel in the girls' bathroom, balled it up and threw it away before picking up her backpack and heading out the door. Tristan had some nerve to feel her up in a public place.

What was worse – she actually liked it. 

In some perverse way, she relished in the fact that they could do _that_ and no one was any wiser. It was the lure of the forbidden and it was intoxicating. 

She reached her locker and fumble with the combination, her mind still dazed. Someone crept up behind her and she was going to start yelling, thinking in was Tristan. But as soon as she turned around, she came face to face with Jack Hunter. 

"Hey there Gilmore," he drawled, reminding her a little of Tristan's patented leer. "What's the rush?" 

"I thought you were someone else."

"Your boyfriend?" he asked, grinning like an idiot. "You know, it's a surprise he's lasted as long as he has. Or should I say you've lasted long?"

"What are you talking about?" Rory asked, irritably as she turned her back to him.

"You and DuGrey: the golden couple," he elaborated, leaning against the locker next to hers in another move that was reminiscent of Tristan. How come this guy looked awkward doing it while the casual stance it seemed to fit Tristan perfectly? _Some people just have the class to pull it off_, she thought with an inward grin. _This guy really is an asshole. _"The two of you are just perfect, aren't you?"

"Is there a point to this, Jack?" Rory asked as she shut the locker. "You're getting annoying."

He let that insult roll of him. "I'm just curious."

"About _what_?"

"About how long DuGrey will last before he realizes you're not going to give it up," Jack leered, as he pushed off the locker and stood erect.

Flushing with embarrassment and shaking with anger, she was about to answer him when Tristan appeared from behind them, looking pissed. "Leave her alone, Hunter."

Jack backed off a couple of inches but kept the slimy smile on his face. "Hey don't go all caveman on me, DuGrey. I was just talking to her. Do you find this macho act appealing Gilmore?"

"Hunter," Tristan voice was low and dangerous. "I'm warning you." 

"Don't get your panties in a bunch, Tristan. I'll be seeing you."

"God," Tristan stated disgusted, shaking his head as Jack walked away. "Please tell me I wasn't that revolting two years ago at the Winter Formal."

"I wouldn't say revolting," Rory answered fairly. "But just as big an asshole."

"Thanks and sorry."

"Water under the bridge." She glanced at the empty classroom behind him and motioned him towards it. "I need to talk to you."

As she pulled him inside, he started to apologize, "I'm sorry I did what I did I just thought that I had to sho-"

She locked the door, turned to him, grabbed his face between her hands and brought his lips crashing to hers. He let out a surprised moan and then slipped his arms around her waist, kissing her back with equal passion. She broke away first, watching with amusement as he tried to regain his composure.

"Well," he stated, loosening his tie a bit. "Now I know when you say 'talk' you mean 'make out in a random classroom'. Got it."

"Well, it's your entire fault," she pouted, twining her arms behind his neck. "Feeling me up like that! Someone probably saw that."

"I was merely proving a point."

"That you're a horny prep-boy?"

"That there are other things I can do besides kiss you to distract you," he countered kissing the side of her mouth as his hands traveled to rest on her rear. "Besides, you know you liked it." 

"So besides the point," she mumbled against his seeking lips and then started to ramble so he started kissing a trail down the column of her neck, "And it wasn't like I didn't want you to kiss me or that I get distracted when you do that, oh!" – she gasped when he nipped at her collarbone- "it's just that I needed time to process everything you told me last night."

He drew away at that, looking down at her seriously. "I knew it was a mistake to tell you."

"No!' she protested. "No it wasn't! I'm really glad you told me."

"Seriously?"

"Yes, because it gave me time to think through this," she replied, resting her hands on his shoulders. "As much as I'd like to believe that I'm okay with your, past, and can act mature – I can't. It's going to take me a little while and I know Jack Hunter and all your friends are rag-"

"Rory!" he cried, frustrated. "What those guys say means shit to me."

"I know," she conceded, smiling slightly at the conviction behind his words. "I just want you to know that I am thinking about it. Really, turmoil-filled thinking. And not that I want to inflate your already humungous ego but all that thinking? All about you." 

"You slay me, Ror," he muttered sincerely, kissing the tip of her nose.

She let out a mock gasp. "You stole that line!"

"I did?"

"Yes, it's from _Dawson's Creek_."

"Oh, kill me now," he groaned. 

"How 'bout I kiss you instead?" she asked, standing on her tiptoes to press her lips against his kiss. "By the way, just for the record, that no kissing rule was a dumb rule."

"A very dumb rule." 


	36. Chapter 36: Sexual Something

Chapter 36: Sexual Something 

Christopher shut the trunk of his car and turned to his daughter on the Gilmore driveway with a big grin. "I can't believe the next time I see you, you're gonna be eighteen. Ifeel old."

"Yeah, thirty-five is over the hill," Rory agreed with a grin of her own. "Maybe it's time for me to make arrangements in Florida."

"That's very sweet of you." He hugged her and rustled her hair. "Are you sure you're gonna be okay with your mom? I think she's still mad at me for taking Tristan's side over hers."

"I've lived with her for eighteen years now," she returned, rolling her eyes and she turned to look at her mother on the porch, talking on the phone. "I think I can handle her temper tantrums regarding my choice of boyfriends. Just thank God that you missed the 'Jess Months' as she likes to call them."

"You would like to think that I did," he said wryly. "Phones are the darndest things."

"Don't talk about me behind my back," Lorelai chided as she came up behind Rory. She glanced at Christopher's car and smiled. "You got everything, Chris?"

"Everything I need," he answered, staring at her with a small grin. Rory looked between her parents and wondered what was going on. "I better get going. I'm gonna get stuck in traffic. I'll see you ladies on Sunday." 

He leaned in to kiss Rory on the forehead and then hugged Lorelai, both of them lingering a little longer than usual. Then he was driving off, leaving mother and daughter alone once again.

"You okay, Ror?"

"Fine. You?"

Lorelai glanced down the street, just as Christopher's car turned off onto the main road. "I'm good. Listen, we need to talk."

"Oh this sounds serious. Can we order from _Sandeep's first?"_

She grimaced and headed back towards the house. "Fine but only because I hope I get sick from the curry and can stay home and avoid Michel."

A half an hour later, mother and daughter were sitting cross-legged on the floor of the living room, talking about their days as they plundered through the spicy Indian meal in front of them. The TV played quietly in the background but even that sound was drowned out by the incessant rambling and laughter.

"It's been awhile since we've done this," Rory mused as she bit into a samosa. "I guess we've both become accustomed to life separately. It's good practice for college." 

Lorelai nodded, smiling slightly as she poked at her butter chicken with her fork. "I'm not ready for that yet."

She nodded back earnestly. "Me neither. I think baby steps are in order."

"Speaking of steps," her mother said, wiping her fingers with a napkin. "I think it's time you and I talked rationally about certain, uh, steps, you're seemingly ready to take in your let's say…love life."

Rory drew in a breath, knowing that she had to talk to her mother about it, sooner or later. After their last feud on the subject she avoided mentioning Tristan as much as she could and Lorelai in turn, didn't bring him up unless necessary. It was an unsaid agreement between them that they would talk when they were alone. And now with Christopher gone and her mother somewhat less tense, Rory figured it was the best time to discuss sex with her mother.

"Do you wanna start?"

Lorelai nodded. "Yes. Oh boy, how to do this? Well, first, I wanna apologize for yelling at you. That was never the way I intended to talk to you about that particular subject."

"I know, Mom." To keep her hands busy, Rory picked at the thin wafer layer of her samosa. "I'm sorry I yelled back."

"But you have to understand how scary it is for me to think of you thinking about that. Not only because of what I went through but because sex is a really big deal," she continued, stopping only to take a sip of her soda. "When I saw Tristan in your room, I was just getting these images that no mother should have…"

Rory blushed furiously. "God, I'm sorry. We got carried away."

Lorelai grinned wryly. "That's normal. It really is. I just need you to be smarter than that, babe. I know about hormones and that overwhelming feeling that takes the wind right out of you. Hell, your existence is the result of that overwhelming feeling."

"Mom, I just ate." Rory threw a napkin at Lorelai, trying to lighten the mood. She cleared her throat and leaned forward. "It's not like I haven't thought rationally about this, you know. I have…so many times. I mean, Tristan and I haven't even been dating that long and it's not like me to think about…about sex so, I don't know, easily. But when I'm with him, I _can't think about anything else."_

Lorelai patted her knee. "I understand. I really do, honey. I'm still freaked and worried but I understand. I don't think any parent wants to think about their teenagers having sex but that's my problem and I will deal with it. But you have to responsible about this kid; you have such a bright future." 

"I know," Rory murmured into agreement. A little more comfortable discussing this with Lorelai, she lunged forward. "It's just that with Tristan, it's always been sexual and kind of inevitable."

Lorelai frowned. "Honey, just because he expects you to have sex with him does not mean that you have to do it."

She shook her head, fervently. "No Mom, the thing is, I want to. I never really did with Dean or even Jess. Tristan isn't forcing me into anything. In fact, he's always the first one to pull away."

Her mother looked a little unconvinced. "Well, that's news. Listen, Rory, this is your decision to make and only yours. You're a smart kid – so much smarter than I was at your age so I trust you. I really do."

"Thank you Mom," she replied sincerely. "And I don't want to do anything that will disappoint you. I have thought about this a lot, and I think that I should make an appointment with your gynecologist." 

Lorelai looked as if someone had just told her that Rory had won the Nobel Prize. "I'll call her first thing in the morning."

~*~

"I don't get it," Tristan said as the credits rolled. They were spending another afternoon in the DuGrey living room, sprawled together on the couch. "What's so great about this show anyway? Aside from Sarah Michelle Gellar in tight clothes, kicking ass, of course."

Rory rolled her eyes and settled against the couch and stretched her legs onto Tristan's lap. "Two words. Spike. Leather."

It was his turn to roll his eyes as he shifted his body and then angled himself so that he was lying on top of her, most of his weight on his forearm. She squirmed a bit, trying to accommodate their entwined limbs on the couch. "So, what you like pale, British bloodsuckers with a penchant for black leather?" 

She reached up and wrapped her arms around his neck as his hands clutched her hips. "I like hot, bleach-blonde bad-asses." 

He sighed and contemplated her declaration. "Well, I'm not bleach-blonde but I have been described as hot on a couple of occasions and by your own admission, I am somewhat of a bad-ass…"

"That's why I like you," she replied, nodding seriously. "Even though you're not a vampire."

"But I'd bite you anytime, sweetheart." His grin was seductive as he leaned down and licked a trail up her neck before sinking his teeth into her soft flesh.

And that was all it took to get the temperature in the room to shoot up.

Rory's response was immediate and enthusiastic. Her fingers traced patterns down his back while he attacked her neck with hot, open-mouthed kisses and nibbles. Shifting the weight off his arms but still careful not to crush her under him, he trailed his lips up and claimed her mouth again, in a raw kiss. His knee wedged between her legs and she instantly spread them, allowing him to settle there.

He tore his lips away and gasped for breath only to find her mouth fused to his again, seconds later. Her hands continued their journey down his back, stopping at the hem of his shirt momentarily before slipping under to touch skin. He groaned into the kiss, relishing in the feel of her fingers tracing the muscles, smoothing his skin. His nerves were already on fire as she pushed the material of his shirt further up and slowly over his shoulders.

He broke the kiss again, smirking when she protested. Her eyes fluttered open and she grinned slightly before finally relieving him of his shirt and slipping it off his head. He took the opportunity to start unbuttoning her school blouse but before he could completely divest her of the material, in a surprise move, she lifted herself into a sitting position before pushing him back in the opposite direction.

She settled on top of him, giving him a tantalizing view of her lace-encased breasts as she leaned over him and then started to place hot, open-mouthed kissed on his neck, this time. He grasped at her hips roughly and closed his eyes as she continued to attack him with teasing kisses. 

Tristan knew somewhere in the deep recesses of his mind that he should stop her. That his living room was no place for them to test how tightly they could wind each other up until they burst from anticipation and longing. But right now, as she covered his mouth with her own, completely taking control, his body wasn't listening to any warnings his mind was issuing. 

Her hands skimmed over his shoulders and she murmured something incomprehensible against his skin, causing him to moan her name softly. Then, everything in him seemed to burst into flames as she slid down the length of his body, trailing her lips down his chest. She paused before flicking her tongue quickly over his nipple. He shuddered as he felt an electric jolt zip straight to his groin in response to her ministration. Emboldened by his reaction, she did it again and then continued her journey downwards.

All other thoughts fled his mind as his imagination ran forward to a more compromising position for them. Closing his eyes, he let his hands roam over her back and settle into her hair, twining haphazardly into the silky strands. 

Her lips barely brushed over his skin, peppering a trail to his belly button. She seemed keen on being thorough, kissing every part of his torso and stopping only to nibble on his flesh as his muscles quivered underneath her mouth. 

Suddenly, she stopped just above the belt of his trousers, lifting her head to meet his gaze. He stared back at her, anticipation humming through him as she smiled crookedly a mixture of innocence and mischief in her bright blue eyes. His mouth opened slightly and then, he threw his head back as a strangled laugh escaped his lips.

"Jesus Christ," he bit out as her hand barely grazed over his crotch. She started to kiss him again, but this time, her lips moved upwards again, working their way back towards his mouth. "You're such a tease, Gilmore."

Immediately, she stopped kissing his chest and looked up at him, through a heavy-lidded gaze. "What do you mean I'm a tease?"

He let out a frustrated laugh and swiftly flipped them over so she was on the bottom again. "You're a tease and you don't even know it. I find that incredibly sexy."

"You find wet noodles sexy, Tristan." 

He arched his brows, amused. "Wet noodles, huh? Kinky."

"Just giving you a taste of your own medicine," she replied, waving her hand in dismissal. He sat between her legs, swaying back slightly on the balls of his feet as he proceeded to finally rid her of the blouse. "Let's just say last night, while I was in bed…you definitely got me all hot and bothered and I was just exacting my revenge." 

He paused for a second, caught off guard by her admittance and then grinned wolfishly pleased that she thought of him in the privacy of her own room, while darkness surrounded her. Trying to focus on slipping the last button of her blouse out of the hole he drove that particular mental image out of his mind. "Well, don't worry about that, Mary. Anytime you wanna exact revenge, is completely fine by me. Of course, you're going to have to willing to do the same for me."

"Of course," she replied seriously as he pushed the material aside and feasted his eyes on her flushed skin, soft curves, and the telltale sign of puckered nipples straining against the thin, lacy pink fabric of her bra. "It's only fair."

He nodded, trailing his fingers up her ribcage and then softly cupping her right breast in his hand, watching her eyes cloud over and lose focus. When he let his thumb slip under the material and flick over the pebbled skin, she closed her eyes and gasped out his name, instinctively bucking her hips. He grinned and then, deftly undid the clasp of her bra between her breasts, baring them to his hungry gaze. 

They were perfect; white skin and dusky nipples. A groan tore from his lips as she flushed a deeper shade of red and he brought her legs around his waist and leaned over to capture her mouth in another kiss.

This time, he wasn't sure who moaned as flesh met flesh but he was sure that he'd never felt more powerful or aroused in his life than he did at that moment with Rory Gilmore half-naked and under him, her soft breasts pressing against his own chest, as their tongues dueled for dominance. Her skirt had ridden up to her hips by now and he could almost feel the scorching heat emanating from her as he pressed his own arousal against her center. She gasped into his mouth, and unconsciously tightened her legs around his waist, her ankles pressing into his lower back. 

Even the jarring ring of the telephone couldn't snap them out of their lustful world and he continued to attack her senses with every weapon at his disposal. His lips fought with hers, his hands trailed up and down her bare sides, pausing only to alternately squeeze her breasts and pinch her nipples, causing her to shudder and writhe under him with a frantic pace.

_Give her something more tangible to fantasize about_, he thought to himself with a malicious inward grin. The answering machine clicked on then, and after the robotic greeting, a familiar voice resonated in the quiet, spacious living room.

"Hey there Blue Eyes," Apryl Watson said cheerfully. "It's Apryl just in case you've forgotten." 

Rory stiffened under him as he tore his lips away from her and she stared up at him with confused blue eyes. 

"You're apparently not home and I'm not sure if you had a private line or anything. Anyway, I just wanted to talk." There was pause and then a labored sigh. "Joey and I kinda had a big argument but that was two days ago and I haven't seen him since. Has he called you? Can you let me know, ASAP? Uh, so, call me when you get this message. I miss having you around."

Tristan winced at the wistfulness of Apryl's voice as the machine beeped and the room became quiet again. Although he was touched by her sentiment and he returned it, he just wished it hadn't happened when his current girlfriend was under him, responding avidly to his amorous advances. It kinda ruined the mood.

Rory shifted under him and then arched an eyebrow, bemused. "So that was Apryl, huh?" 

Tristan smiled at her sheepishly and then moved away as she brought herself to a seating position, covering herself up again by clasping her bra shut again. Sighing, he ran a hand through his hair, swung both his legs off the couch and retrieved his shirt from the floor. "I'll go get us some ice tea." 

"Oh just ice will do," she called after him. Just as he crossed the length of the living room, he heard her mutter, "Blue Eyes."


	37. Chapter 37: You're There For Me

**Dedication: **To Surya who gets a drool-worthy boyfriend. And of course to my Susie, the best beta in the world!

**Author's Note: **I realize this chapter is shorter than the rest but it's so transitional (and therefore lacking in quality). And the guy who plays Joe Walker in my head is a young Kelly Slater (his _Baywatch_ days). For a visual go here: 

**Warning**: Beware the cheese. 

****

Chapter 37: You're There For Me

When Tristan came back into the living room with two tall glasses of ice tea, Rory had already buttoned up her blouse and tried to remain as calm as possible. Making out like that with her boyfriend only to be interrupted by his ex-lover was not what Rory imagined the afternoon to be like.

"Here." He handed her a glass and sat on the coffee table across from her, watching her as he took a sip from his own glass. 

Her eyes darted everywhere before finally resting on his face, on his eyes. "Joey's your friend from LA, right?"

"Yeah."

"So, uh, he's dating Apryl now?"

Tristan let out a disbelieving laugh. "Apryl and Joe? No, they're not dating. They're childhood friends."

Rory nodded briefly. "So, um, shouldn't you call Joe back or even Apryl?"

"I will. I just wanted to make sure that we're," he gestured at the space between them, "you know, okay."   

"I'm not mad or anything if that's what you think," she said, reaching over and patting him on the knee. "It was just kinda weird hearing Apryl's voice when we were…doing that. Kinda like the last time we were on this couch."

He laughed, squeezing her hand a little. "That settles it. The couch is jinxed." 

"We're just going to have to find somewhere more appropriate." She pondered for a second and without really thinking blurted, "Maybe your bedroom would be more private."

"And much more comfortable," he agreed with a devilish grin. He leaned forward and brushed his lips against her gently. "Just say the words." 

But she didn't have time to say them as someone cleared their throat, very distinctly behind them, causing her to blush even before she saw the intruder. They both broke apart and turned to look at the man standing in the entryway, looking a little uncomfortable. Rory immediately recognized him as Tristan's father; the posture, the messy hair and jaw line were identical.

Tristan was right; the couch was jinxed. After all, what were the chances of them being caught by one of his parents every time they made out in the mansion? 

"Hello son," his father greeted them and a hint of a smirk played on the older man's lips as he briefly looked over at Rory. She decided that someone needed to patent that DuGrey trademark. He strode forward, smiling now. "I didn't mean to interrupt."

"Father," Tristan returned shortly. "I didn't know you were back."

"I just got in," he answered and again, his eyes settled on Rory. "Have we met before? You look awfully familiar, young lady." 

She blushed; something about him made her nervous but she extended her hand to him anyway. "I'm Rory Gilmore."

"Gilmore?" he stated confused as he accepted her hand. Then recognition dawned and he smiled brightly, his entire face suddenly coming alive. "Richard's granddaughter! Oh, what a delight. He talks very highly of you."

Tristan seemed somewhat amused by this as he formally introduced them. "Rory, this is my father, William DuGrey."

"It's nice to meet you," Rory said politely, still aware that he held her hand.

William finally realized this too and patted her hand before letting it go. Then, he turned to Tristan again. "Well, son, it looks like you have another visitor. A young man by the name of Joseph."

"Joe? In Hartford?" Tristan asked, completely shocked. "Where is he?"

"In the foyer."

"Jesus Dad," Tristan scoffed as he headed to the foyer, leaving the other two people no choice but to follow. "Joe!"

Joseph Walker, with his wavy, unruly blond hair and clear blue eyes definitely embodied all the ideals and stereotypes people had about Californian surfers. Sure, he didn't have the chiseled good looks that Tristan possessed but the style was definitely the same: unaffected. Casual. Sexy. _Since when did I become so shallow? _she wondered again, already knowing the answer. 

"And this is Rory." Tristan's voice snapped her out of her musings and she automatically smiled brightly and accepted Joe's extended hand.

"We finally meet," he said in a voice that was all warm and husky. Why wasn't Apryl dating this guy? It seemed kind of fuzzy to her. "It's great to finally put a face to a name."

"Right back at ya," she replied with a bright smile. 

Tristan frowned as William came to stand behind Joe again. "Well, Joseph, I have arranged for the maid to set up the guest room upstairs. You will of course be staying here."

"I really appreciate this sir. Especially after I just dropped by unannounced."

"Nonsense," William returned with a smile, slapping him on the back. "It's not everyday I get to meet Tristan's friends and girlfriends. Is that all the luggage you have?"

Joe hoisted the backpack on his shoulder a little higher. "Yes sir." 

"Dad, would you mind showing Joe his room?" Tristan asked suddenly. "I need to…do something." 

Before Rory could ask him what was so urgent, he disappeared through the swinging door that led to the kitchen. William and Joe were already climbing the stairs and Rory reluctantly returned to the living room, after quelling the urge to spy on her boyfriend. 

~*~ ~*~ ~*~

"He flew to Hartford?" Apryl exclaimed over the phone when Tristan called her from the kitchen. "It's official; he's out of his damned mind."

"I don't know what's wrong," Tristan admitted as he leaned against the counter. Whatever he was, he wished that he wasn't being dragged into another infamous fight between two childhood best friends. "What happened?"

"I don't even know anymore," Apryl sighed, annoyed. "I gave up on figuring Walker out a long, long time ago."

"Well, whatever happened must have been major enough for him to put an entire continent between the two of you."

She made a noise of disgust. "That's so Dawson and Joey."

Tristan rolled his eyes. So that's where he got his _Dawson's Creek_ references. "So what am I supposed to do with him?"

"You're his best friend, you figure it out."

"You know him longer."

"Correction: I knew him," she replied, sounding disappointed. "Now he's just a big question mark to me. Whatever you do, send him home safe." 

He sighed. Apryl had this uncanny ability to make him feel like he had to be some kind of a hero. It was too much pressure and that was one of the reasons they had never worked out. "Watson, you really haven't changed."

"You sound disappointed."

"No," he said grinning slightly, "just amazed that we survived through all those dates."

"Ah well," she shot back off-handedly, "I was just using you for your body."

He laughed and leaned back against the counter. "No one can blame you."

She sighed heavily again and her tone became wistful. "I meant what I said, though. I do miss having you around. Are you sure Hartford would miss you?"

"I'm not sure about that," he returned and the glanced in the direction of the living room before adding silently: _But I sure hope Rory would._

~*~ ~*~ ~*~ 

Rory was laughing when Tristan walked back into the living room after his mysterious errand. Joe had just re-told her the story of the first time the two boys met, from his point of view, and she decided it sounded much better the second time. 

"What crap are you telling my girlfriend, Walker?"

"Dude," Joe replied, sprawling out on the couch. "You know I speak nothing but the truth."

"Sure you do," Tristan said good-naturedly as Rory giggled. "And in keeping with this claim of honesty, why don't you tell me what you're doing in Hartford."

The smile faltered on his face and he glanced from Tristan to her and Rory immediately understood that they needed privacy. But Joe recovered quickly. "DuGrey, I'm hurt that you think I need a reason to visit you." 

Tristan rolled his eyes. "Apryl's worried." 

_So that's what he needed to do_, Rory thought. She wasn't sure if she was impressed by how much he cared about Apryl and Joe or if she was jealous. 

Now it was Joe's turn to roll his eyes. "Figures. She's probably just irritated that she didn't get to finish laying into me before I-"

"Ran away," Tristan supplied, somewhat amused. Joe glared at him and then there was a moment of uncomfortable silence. "What about school?"

Joe shrugged. "Parent-teacher conferences. Four-day weekend."

More silence.

This time, Rory broke it. "You know what? I should get going."

"You don't have to do that," Joe protested.

"Yeah but I need to study and I blew Paris off earlier and I think she's pissed about it so I can still make it up to her," Rory explained with a grin. "You two can bond." The boys chuckled and she gathered her things from the floor near the couch before turning to Joe again. "If you're in town this weekend, you should come with Tristan to my birthday party. It's the place to be, really."

The surprise in Joe's eyes belied the cool answer. "I'll have to check it out then. Bye Rory."

Tristan walked her to the door and pulled her flushed against him. "You know, if it were up to me, I'd much rather spend my time with you and pick up where we left off."

Her cheeks tinged pink as she remembered where exactly they were before the interruptions: half-naked and tangled. She reached up behind his head and played with the hair at his nape. "Well, I'm glad to know I rank up there. But from the looks of it, Joe needs you so the two of you go and have a deep, meaningful conversation and figure the mess out."

Tristan gave her a dubious look. "You have no idea what guys do together when they hang out, do you?"

"Not a clue." 

Standing on her tip-toes, she brushed her lips against his in a parting kiss meant to be light. She should have known he'd want to take it deeper. Forgetting that Joe was in the living room waiting for Tristan's return, she pressed herself against him and returned the fervent demand of his mouth with her own. When his hands traveled down her back to rest on her rear, she broke away breathless before they got carried away and screwed in the foyer – which she doubted he'd mind. 

He rested his forehead against hers and smiled. "G'night Ror."

"See you tomorrow." 

~*~ ~*~ ~*~ 

"So you weren't exaggerating when you said she was pretty hot," Joe greeted Tristan as he re-entered the living room. "I see the appeal my friend, and I approve one hundred percent."

"I feel much better now about my choice in girlfriends," Tristan returned sarcastically.

"Wow, somebody needs to get laid."

"Exactly what I was trying to do," he muttered under his breath and ran a hand through his hair. Sighing resignedly, he dropped onto the couch next to Joe and shrugged. "So, you wanna tell me what's going on?"

"Karen Thompson is a phony."

"Ah," Tristan said significantly and then after a beat, "Wanna go get wasted?"


	38. Chapter 38: Alcohol and Summer Sheffield

**Dedication: **The usual suspects, Susie and Surya for just being the best.****

**Author's Note: **I realize that the story is getting progressively hotter but like I mentioned in the first chapter, I planned on eventually changing the rating to R. The last couple of chapters have been just that and the next will continue to be so. You have been warned.****

Chapter 38: Alcohol and Summer Sheffield 

"You know what, dude?" 

"What's that, Joseph?"

"Being rich is s'cool," he slurring with a triumphant air, making a big arc in the air with his left arm. The music in the club throbbed in Tristan's head, the colors blended together like some painting in a new age art gallery and the room seemed to keep shifting off its axis every now and again. Joe lowered his voice conspiratorially. "We're drinking _booze. The good stuff, too. And we're not legal. When I grow up, Ima gonna be rich." _

"So am I," Tristan nodded decisively, taking another sip of his beer. 

Joe smiled in appreciation. "I love you, man."

Tristan studied Joe contemplatively for a minute before wagging his finger at him in accusation. "You're drunk!"

"I'm wasted," the surfer corrected. "You know who else is wasted?"

"Who?"

"Apryl."

Tristan made a face and looked around wildly. "Apryl? She's here? Where's she at, man?" When he couldn't spot her, he rubbed his eyes and shook his head. "I don't see her."

"She can be so fucking self righteous," Joe stated angrily, as he clutched the beer bottle to his chest. "Tellin' me what to do, yellin' at me for messing up. Nobody asked her to give a flying fuck about me. Intefering in my life. I don't tell her what to do…didn't tell her not to go around fucking you, did I?" 

Even in his stupor, Tristan didn't know what to say to that so he simply shrugged. It was true. He knew Joe didn't like him dating Apryl but refrained from saying anything. And he was right, Apryl was kind of bossy. "I thought you had issues with Karen."

Joe let out a snort of disgust. "They're all sisters. The bitches."

Forgetting that he had Rory and that he didn't think she was a bitch, Tristan nodded again in agreement. But then he sighed and added, "Can't get laid without them, though." 

"Who wants to get laid?" a familiar voice drawled from behind him and Tristan turned around to see Summer Sheffield, standing there in fire-engine-red dress that barely covered her breasts and skimmed a good inch or two above her knees. Her painted mouth stretched into a flirty smile as she placed one delicate hand on her hip and the other on the back of Tristan's chair. "Hello Tristan. Who's your gorgeous friend?" 

Joe didn't wait to be introduced and thrust his hand forward, grinning as he gave Summer a leering once over. Tristan wondered where his contempt for women went all of a sudden. "Joseph Walker."

"Charmed," she replied as she accepted his hand. "I haven't seen you around."

"I live in LA."

"Ooh Beverly Hills," she stated a little giddily.

"Santa Monica, actually." 

"Oh," Summer said suddenly looking at him like her were a fly on her windshield. She turned away from him and turned her coy smile at Tristan again. "You wanna dance, baby?"  

Tristan glanced at Joe who looked at Summer in revulsion and took a drag of his beer and then at the dance floor that seemed crowded and too loud for his tastes. "No." 

"Aw," she said, pouting her lips to make them look fuller and more inviting. Tristan remembered a time when he had kissed those same lush lips and recoiled from her seeking arm. She was faster and latched onto his shirt. "Just one dance, Tristan. For old times' sake." 

He tried to think of some other reason why he shouldn't be dancing with Summer, the reason that was just behind the fog in his brain. It was screaming to be heard but he couldn't pull it to the forefront and express it coherently as Summer pulled him off his chair so he blurted, "Rory."

This managed to stop the brunette and she turned to him with a look of amused indulgence. "Isn't that cute? Tristan DuGrey, ladies and gentlemen, is whipped."

"Stop being a bitch, Summer."

She ignored that comment and continued to taunt him as she stepped forward, pressed herself against him and brought her lips to his ear. "What is it, Tristan? You can't even dance with me now that you have a Puritan girlfriend? Are you afraid she'll break up with you? Or are you just afraid that if you dance with me, it'll lead to something much more because you've kept it in your pants for so long?"

The combination of the heady scent of her perfume, the throbbing music and the alcohol in his system were making it increasingly difficult for him to fend off her advances and he somehow stumbled with her to the dance floor, his hands resting on her hips. "What are you playing at, Summer?" 

She grinded against him, in sync with the song, and answered in a low, send-all-the-blood-rushing-to-your-groin voice. "I thought that much was obvious, baby."

Tristan brought his hands to her shoulders and pushed her away a little. "Summer, you dumped me. In front of everyone. At a party two years ago. What the hell is going on?" 

Unfazed, Summer draped her own arms over his shoulder and pressed her body against him. "I made a mistake, Tristan. And I just want to fix it." 

Before he could ask her how she planned on fixing her error, she seized his lips with hers in an open-mouthed kiss. Shocked and confused, his eyes widened a little before closing shut as her insistent tongue swept into his mouth.

_Rory!_ his mind screamed to remind him. Beguilingly blue eyes and beautiful smile. _Your girlfriend!_

Groaning, he broke this kiss and pushed Summer away. She was momentarily stunned as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand but then, her mouth turned into another sardonic smile. "Oh and this just keeps getting better."

"Shut up, Summer."

"You have _feelings for her. How precious," she continued to mock, following him off the dance floor. "Makes it all the more perfect. So tell me, has Tristan DuGrey finally turned a new leaf. Or are those earlier rumors true? Has your little Mary earned a Magdalene to her name?"_

"Go home, Sheffield." 

"Nice come back," she commented with a smirk. "I'll wager it's the latter. After all, baby, your prowess is legendary." 

Now, it was his turn to smirk. Obviously, ignoring her wasn't working. He stepped closer and her smile widened, her eyes lighting up slightly. He brought his face close to hers, close enough to feel her warm breath on his lips and trailed a finger down her left cheek. "Fortunately for me, you never really found out how good you could have had it." 

Without waiting for her response, he turned away from her and headed back to the table. When he got there, Joe was drunkenly making out with a bosomy blonde who looked like she was at least twenty-five. Belatedly realizing the night had done nothing to solve his friend's problems, Tristan sighed as he tapped the blonde on her shoulder insistently. 

The couple broke apart and Joe smile broadly. "Hey! It's my best friend!"

The blonde giggled. "He's hot."

"All the girls say that," Joe agreed as his tonsil hockey partner shifted on his lap. "What can I do for you, buddy?"

"Let's go home, Walker."

"I'm just fine here," he slurred, wiggling his eyebrows and the blonde giggled again and the two of them continued to make-out. 

Tristan felt the slow but steady pressure build behind his eyes and he shook his head to clear it from the fog. He reached into his pocket for his cell phone and dialed the first number that came to mind. It rang four times and he chanted 'pick up, pick up!' in his head hoping that it wouldn't go to voicemail.

"Hello?" an unfamiliar voice greeted him. 

Tristan frowned and then shouted into the phone over the noise. "Mariano? What are you doing with Paris' phone?"

"She's, uh, otherwise occupied," Jess returned uneasily and for a split second Tristan thought he had interrupted an intimate moment. But in the background, he heard the distinct sound of Paris yelling at someone. 

"Is Rory there?"

"Yes, she is the victim of Paris' wrath at the moment."

"Shit," he swore softly. "Listen, man, can I ask you a favor?"

"I'm listening," came the dubious reply. 

"I need you to pick Joe and me up at _Club Soda_ because I doubt I can make it home in one piece or without driving my car into the gate but I need you to do it without Rory finding out what you're up to," he explained quickly.

"So you want me to lie to my friend, your _girlfriend_, about your whereabouts and then drive your drunk ass home?" 

"Pretty much." 

"I don't have a car."

"Borrow Gellar's."

A beat then, "Nice."

~*~ 

It was happening again.

As Rory walked through the hallways of Chilton the next day, people were whispering about her and were not trying to be discreet about it.

Ever since Jess had mysterious disappeared from their study night at Paris' (well, she and Paris were studying, Jess was trying to get them to go out for ice cream) Rory was getting a weird vibe from everyone around. When they got to Stars Hollow the night before, she had cornered Jess and used a little blackmailing tip she'd picked up from Lorelai and he had confessed about Tristan's night of booze. 

But that still didn't explain the stares from her fellow classmates. She just wanted to stand up and yell, "Did I miss something?"

"Hey Magdalene," Summer Sheffield greeted her the next day with a wide, mocking smile. "That is your new name, right?"

Rolling her eyes, Rory shut her locker. "What are you talking about, Summer?"

"Still trying to be a Mary, are we?" She made a clicking sound with her tongue. "Don't bother, sweetie. Your secret's out. I don't blame you though; Tristan is a very hard man to resist." 

Despite the heat she felt burning her cheeks, Rory managed to stay calm and Summer sashayed away from her. She remembered the last time the other girl had spread vicious rumors about her and the fight with Tristan that had ensued and she was not going to let Summer win this time. 

Resolutely, she adjusted her backpack and headed for the lunchroom to find Paris Gellar. 

~*~ 

The intense throbbing was drowning out the sounds in his head; sucking out the pleasure of dreaming. 

Wearily, Tristan opened one eye and peered out from under his pillow only to be attacked by a harsh ray of sunlight peeking out through the gap in the curtains. He closed his eyes against the onslaught of light and groaned, turning in his bed onto his back. He wished his head would fall off. Swearing inwardly because his mouth felt too dry to open, he tried to open both his eyes this time. When he did, he had to blink twice – not because of the light but because of the illusion – well, he thought it was an illusion, at least.

Her dark hair was falling around her face and with the sunlight serving as a backdrop it looked like a halo – as ridiculous as it seemed. Her eyes looked bluer and her skin looked fresh and soft. But her mouth (that oh-so-kissable mouth) was upturned and gave away that mystery of an illusion.

"Rory?"

"Nice hair," she deadpanned as he sat up in bed and then groaned as the movement caused his whole body to go rigid, his muscles to ache. 

"What are you doing here?" he asked as the sheets fell to his waist and he realized he was wearing only his boxers. Somehow, in his drunken haze the night before, he had managed to strip himself of his jeans and T-shirt. From his experience, Rory Gilmore would be blushing right about now, but his girlfriend didn't even blink. He ran his tongue over his upper teeth as realization dawned. "Jess told you."

"That you and Joe got wasted last night?" she asked, her tone pleasant as she sat down on the edge of his bed and straightened out the hem of her uniform's skirt with one hand. "Oh yeah. But don't blame him. I have stuff on him that you wouldn't even believe. I never knew blackmail could be so… _satisfying_."

He chuckled, even though it cost him. "I think I like this side of you." She handed him a glass of maroon colored liquid that he realized she was holding and he took it from her warily. "What is this?"

"A magic concoction sure to cure any hangover," she answered calmly and then shrugged. "At least that's what my father told me."

Tristan raised the glass to his nose, sniffed and made a face. "I'm not drinking this."

"Well I'm not drinking it," Rory shot back, her tone firm but still awfully pleasant. He was beginning to worry about her state of acceptance. "If you're willing to get drunk, you gotta be willing to get rid of that hangover. If you ever want to make it to school, that is."

He glanced at the alarm clock on his side table and then back at her. "It's noon."

"That means you have three more periods left."

"What are you doing here?" he asked, shocked that she was in his room in the middle of a school day. "_How'd_ you get here?"

"I skipped lunch and borrowed Paris' car. She's in a magnanimous mood, lately." She folded her legs under her and bounced on the bed. When he grimaced, she gasped slightly. "Oh, sorry! I didn't mean to bounce, it kinda just happened." 

"I'll live," he answered with a grin that quickly turned into frown as he glanced at the glass in his hands again. "But this just might kill me."

"Stop fussing and drink," she commanded, reaching over to tip the glass towards his mouth. "It'll make you feel all better. I bet Joe has already gulped it all down."

"Joe?"

"I sent your housekeeper into his room with another glass of this stuff," she replied with a grin. "I hope at least he fell asleep fully dressed."

Tristan chuckled and put the glass of offensive liquid on his side table and leaned forward to tug at her hair. "So you did notice my state of undress. I was beginning to think you were desensitized." 

"Nice try," she quipped and lifted the glass in front of his face again. "Drink."

Because he appreciated the fact that she had broken school rules and cut her lunch period to check up on him, he took the glass and brought it to his lips. Closing his eyes, he took one long gulp and swallowed, making a face as he did. Once he was halfway through, he complained again. "I don't see why I have to drink this. I can just sleep until the hammer in my head goes away." 

As he got off the bed and headed to the adjoining bathroom to brush away the awful taste in his mouth, she called to him, "If you don't come back to school with me, you'll miss the test in history."

"I'll make it up," he replied, with a mouth full of paste.

"But it's… _school_!" She sounded like purposely missing school, if you didn't have to, was a bad thing.

He rinsed his mouth, dabbed it with a towel and walked out of the bathroom with a grin on his face. "It's not like I haven't done it before. Give it up, Mary. Your mission to get me on the straight and narrow is just not going to work."

She rolled her eyes, sighed, stood up and threw her hands up in defeat. "Fine, go back to sleep. I'll see you when you're easier to deal with…oh wait, I may never see you again."

He laughed and fell back onto his bed. "Quit the insults and get in bed with me."

"What?" she asked shocked, taking a step away from it instead. "No, I have to go to school."

"Just for a little while," he pretended to whine and even pouted for full effect. "It's still lunch and you'll make it back in time. Come on, Rory. I have a headache."

"Don't whine," she chided, rolling her eyes. She bit her bottom lip in contemplation and he could tell she was weakening. "That's a pathetic tactic, DuGrey." 

"But it got you to consider it." He grinned as she started to shuffle off her shoes and slip out of her uniform's jacket. "Damn, those blazers really do nothing for your figure."

"That's the point, Tristan," she answered and slipped under the covers. He immediately grabbed her by the waist and pulled her close, propping up on one elbow beside her. She grinned up at him and trailed a finger down the side of his face, stopping at his chin. "The question is, Mr. DuGrey, now that you have me in your bed, what ever will you do with me?"

He lowered his mouth to hers, nipped her bottom lip with his teeth just long enough to send that jolt of heat coursing through her before pulling away with a wolfish grin, "I'm going to sleep."

"Jerk!" She slapped his hands away from her and then turned her back to him, unintentionally spooning her body into his. His arm immediately came around her waist as he pressed up against her. "Get off of me."

Tristan laughed against the skin on her neck, causing her to shudder lightly. "Aw, Gilmore, you don't mean that. Besides, if we get started, you'll never make it back in time for the history test."

After a pause, she looked over her shoulder and sniffed lightly. "I'd still appreciate a smidgen of disappointment from you at the lack of tonsil hockey."

"Oh believe me baby," he growled softly, pressing her closer to him. "I'm _very_ disappointed."

Rory grinned widely and turned to him fully, snuggling closer to him in the process. His head fell back against the pillow and she moved to rest hers on his chest, her hair tickling his bare chest. "That's got to be the sweetest thing you've ever said to me, DuGrey."

He laughed and kissed the top of her head, contentedly. "Rest your eyes, Ror."

She yawned and curled up against him like a cat. "Best thing I've heard all day."


	39. Chapter 39: Influence

Chapter 39: Influence

Rory lazily opened her eyes even as she snuggled against the pillows on the bed, forgetting where she was and how long she'd been there. The softness of the sheets against her bare legs and the comforting scent of Tristan's cologne mixed with laundry detergent tempted her to stay exactly where she was, safe in the cocoon of sheets and blankets. 

"Hey sleepyhead," a voice whispered huskily in her ear and she closed her eyes and smiled; loving the way his breath tickled the back of her neck. His lips traced the shell of her ear before nipping lightly on the earlobe. "Rory, wake up." 

"Mm," she murmured and turned to him, eyes still closed. "A few more minutes." 

He laughed, kissed her forehead and she felt the mattress sag slightly as he lay next to her, pulling her closer. "You're making it impossible for me to stay out of this bed."

She opened her eyes again, meeting devastating blue. "That's the idea." 

"Tease," he stated playfully as he kissed her lightly on the lips. She sighed contentedly as he continued to trail his lips across her jaw line. "Who would have ever guessed Rory Gilmore would miss a history exam in favor of spending the afternoon in her boyfriend's bed? Naughty girl." 

_History exam?_ she thought dazedly, tracing patterns with her fingers on his forearm. _What history exam?_ Her eyes widened as it came back to her. She let out a strangled yelp as she pushed away from Tristan and shot up on the bed, completely freaked out. "Oh my God! The exam! I slept through the exam!"

"Hey, whoa, calm down Gilmore," Tristan said as he avoided her flailing arms. He blindly reached for her and grabbed her by the waist, hauling her back into the bed as she tried to scramble out. "Rory, it's four o'clock. The exam's over and school's out."

Mortified, Rory buried her face in her hands as Tristan soothed her hair back from her face. "Why, _why didn't you wake me up? How could you let me miss the exam?"_

"Well, as I recall, I was pretty hammered last night and was sleeping through a hangover when you came over and then you crawled into my bed and fell asleep with me and the hours ticked away, without either of us knowing," he replied and she could hear the amusement in his voice. "Relax, Ror, you can make it up."

She glared at him, folding her arms over her torso. "How will this be okay? What excuse am I going to give Ms. Anderson? I'm sorry I couldn't take the exam but I was sleeping with my boyfriend?" 

Tristan smirked. "Can I please be there when you tell her that?"

"This is all your fault!" With a strangled war cry she turned on the bed and plowed her fists into his chest, knocking him back on the bed. He grabbed her arms, took her down with him and she toppled on him, panting and flushed red. 

Tristan slid one hand up her back, suggestively and winked at her. "I knew you liked it rough." 

She rolled her eyes and then narrowed them at him dangerously. "This is not funny. How will I ever get a note from my mother for missing the exam? I cannot tell her about this and if I do, I'll never hear the end of it! I might as well just join a nunnery because that's where she's going to send me!"

"Look, you don't have to tell her anything," he replied calmly as he sunk further into the pillows. "I'll just write you a note and we'll forge the signature. I'm great at forging signatures. I've done it all my life." 

"Very reassuring, DuGrey." Rory closed her eyes and took a few claming breaths. _It's going to be okay, she said to herself. __It'll be alright. Just tell mom the truth, she'll understand. As that absurd thought passed, she started to giggle and opened her eyes to meet Tristan's amused albeit curious blue ones. "You're such a bad influence on me." _

"Why thank you," he replied as he pulled her face closer to his for a kiss. Against her lips, he murmured, "I try." 

_God, _she thought as she sighed contentedly and returned his kiss with fervor. _All he has to do is kiss me and I can forget everything. _Every single time_. As his lips left hers to graze over her jaw line, her eyes fluttered open and she pulled away. "Tristan, where's Joe?"_

"I sent him to Chilton with Paris's car," he responded, playing with the tips of her hair. 

"Paris's car! Oh my God! I completely forgot about it! What in the world is wrong with me?"

Tristan grinned and twirled a brown strand around his finger. "Are you going to freak out again? It's all taken care of and you just need to relax and make out with me." 

"I know what you're up to, mister." He kissed the side of her face, her jaw line and the skin behind her ear while her own hands seemed to travel down his arms, on their own accord. "You're trying to seduce me so I'll stay longer," she informed him matter-of-factly even though her hands came up around his neck and her fingers played with the hair at his nape. "It's not going to work, Tristan." 

"Ah but I think it already is," he stated with a grin, finally brushing his lips against hers. His hands slipped under her shirt, over the soft skin and she moaned his name softly against his lips. "See? You're weakening." 

She realized at that moment that he was very right. When it came to him, his soft lips and magic hands, she forgot where she was and why it would be very complicated if they continued. Her mind numbed with pleasure and all rational thought was thrown out the proverbial window. 

It was a weakness.

She understood now, perfectly, what all the fuss about Tristan DuGrey was about as he continued to kiss her, in that perfect, precise, assured way of his. She couldn't help but think of all the other girls he'd practiced on. She thought of the French heiress, the steady girlfriend, the one night stand and the surfer who he'd had in his bed. As his lips left her to trail down her neck she remembered how passé he was about all the girls even though he said he cared about them.

Summer's taunting words popped into her head suddenly: _Hey Magdalene. That is your new name, right? _

Was that who she was now? She didn't doubt that Tristan cared for her but would she just be lucky number five for her on his list? Would he be telling another girlfriend one day down the road about how he finally managed to get her into bed?

She had told him she didn't want to be a virgin forever and every time they kissed, she knew that her body was ready for them to take the next step.

The problem: was her heart?

~*~ 

Tristan was unaware of the thoughts running through his girlfriend's mind as he flipped them over, without breaking their kiss. His hand slipped between them and deftly undid the top buttons of her shirt, allowing himself access to her skin. She didn't protest but instead moaned as his fingertips skimmed over her soft, flushed flesh. His hand traveled lower, skimming the lacy trimming of her bra before slipping under to cup her breast against his palm. She moaned into the kiss and encouraged, he ran the pad of his thumb across her nipple.

Her right leg wrapped around his torso, causing her skirt to bunch at her waist. Blood rushed to his groin and it was his turn to groan, as she pressed her lower body against his, the only material between them were his boxers and her cotton panties.

His lips finally left her so that they could breathe and he trailed hot kisses down the column of her throat, stopping to nibble at her collarbone. "Tristan, we really can't…oh!" she exclaimed as he pressed his very apparent arousal against her center. "Tris-_tan_!"

He ignored her and let his hand slip under her to undo the clasp of her bra. She squirmed a little this time, and brought her hands to the side of his face, preventing him from tasting her skin. Reluctantly, he lifted his head and met her stormy blue gaze, filled with desire and regret. He knew what that look meant; he hated that look. Sighing and resigned to the fact that Rory was still not ready to give herself to him in that way, he gathered all his willpower and forcibly pushed himself away. 

"I'm sorry," he mumbled, closed his eyes and fell back against his pillow, on his side of the bed. 

"Tristan." Rory was right by his side again, one leg thrown over his, resting her head on his shoulder. She trailed a finger lazily down his chest and then kissed his jaw line. "Don't be upset."

"I'm not," he replied quickly, opening his eyes and glancing down at her. He disentangled himself from her and moved away, hoping the distance would cool his heated body. He was sorely mistaken if he thought he could get her into bed just to sleep. What made him think he could resist? "Of course, I'm not. I just got a little carried away and I need a few minutes." 

She sat up behind him and touched his arm and when he didn't turn around, she slid her arms up his back, slowly, teasingly. He closed his eyes and tried to fight off the sudden wave of lust that rolled through him. God, she was killing him. She leaned forward, pressing herself against him and nipped his ear lobe between her teeth. "Tristan, I didn't ask you to stop."

"I know you wanted me to," he replied closing his eyes as she kissed the junction between his neck and shoulder. "God, Rory, what are you doing?"

She ignored his question and pulled him back, forcing him to turn again. "I didn't want you to stop."

"You don't want to stop?" he asked, completely confused. 

She shook her head, bit her bottom lip and then swung one leg over him so that she was straddling him, the skirt of her uniform still bunched at her waist and revealing those long, white legs. "Does it feel like I want to stop?"

He grinned at her, wrapping his arms around her waist as he pulled her close as humanly possible. He could feel the heat from her, scorching him. Her shirt was still open and he could feel the fabric of her bra against his skin, her nipples straining against the lace. God, how long had he wanted this? Dreamed of this very moment? The feel of Rory in his arms, her kiss-swollen lips, lust-filled gaze. 

_Too long_, he answered his own question. From the first day he had laid eyes on her.

"No, it doesn't."

"Good," she responded and kissed him. "But we do need to talk first."

He licked the skin over her collarbone. "You talk, I'm listening." 

She giggled, fisted his hair in her fingers and pulled his head away from her neck. "I'm serious, Tristan. I need you to focus for just one second, okay?"

"I'll try," he promised solemnly. 

Rory took a deep breath but kept her eyes locked with his. "You're going to hear me out before you say anything, okay? And don't get pissed. I just need to know. Promise me you won't get pissed." From her tone of voice he knew that there was a distinct possibility he would get pissed but he promised her anyway, nodding his head. "Did something happen last night? At the club? Because people were looking at me strangely all day, whispering about me like they did last time. And then Summer said some particularly mean things…"

Like a freight train, the memory of his unfortunate encounter with Summer hit him and he winced. The hang over and then Rory in his bed had made him forget about Summer's antics. He felt a tiny tingle of resentment that Rory would doubt him but he did realize that her fears were not completely unfounded. He had quite a reputation and it was going to take him a while to get _her_ to realize that he didn't want to be with anyone else.

He understood her fear and kept his anger in check as she searched his face for some kind of response. "Yeah, there was this one thing. Summer was there last night."

"And?" she asked uneasily. 

"And she kissed me."

"Oh."

"But I was drunk," he protested quickly and then realized that wasn't the best defense. "Summer has this way of -"

"I don't want to know," she cut him off and started to get off his lap.

He wasn't having it, so he grabbed her waist and held her there. "No, you asked. So I'm going to tell you the truth, Rory. Joe and I were drinking, Summer tried to get me to dance and she can be persuasive when she wants to, especially you have alcohol in your system. She kissed me and I didn't kiss her back. It was a game to her and it's absolutely nothing to me. I didn't even remember it until just now, when you mentioned her."

She nodded slowly, her hair falling around her face. "You didn't kiss her back?"

"No," he replied firmly. "Why would I want to kiss her when I can kiss you?" 

She laughed at that, brought her hands to his face. "Smooth. I'm glad that we got that cleared up and I'm sorry I doubted you. Even for a second."

He pondered on that for second. "Well I _might be able to forgive you. If I knew just how sorry you are. Because 'sorry' is used so easily these days, it's very hard to be a hundred percent sure, you know."_

"Oh yeah." Rory grinned and leaned forward to capture his bottom lip between her teeth. She tugged on it and responded, "I'm very, very sorry. What can I do to make it up to you?"

Fingers tangled in hair, limbs twined together and lips met feverishly as they sunk back into the mattress, forgetting about everything but the feel of being together like this. Tristan didn't waste any time to finally get her shirt off entirely and she quickly reached under his thin tee to run her hands over his torso, drawing lines along the muscles there and making it impossible for him to slow things down. 

He trailed his hands up her back and undid the clasp, not waiting for a sign from her. Fortunately, she wasn't opposed to the idea as she pulled back and let him slide the straps down her arms and then throw it carelessly away. He pushed himself into a sitting position, pulling her along so she was sprawled on top of him, her soft breast pressing up against his chest as they continued to kiss. 

This was better than he had imagined it; his fantasies could never live up to really having Rory in his arms. It was almost too good to be true.

"Mm Tristan," she moaned softly, pulling away from the kiss. Her hands splayed against his chest and she pushed back a little so he could see the elegant curve of her neck, the rounded tops of her breasts. "I have to tell you something."

"I'm listening," he panted down, running his hands up her sides. 

"I went to the doctor yesterday," she said seriously even though she blushed. "And she gave me a prescription for the pill."

He had to fight the haze of desire, the sound of his blood rushing in his ears to completely process that information, to take in the significance of the statement. "Oh."

"Yeah, they're actually lying in my drawer at home. I haven't started them yet but if we do this" – she shook her head; amended herself - "when we do this, I want to be responsible about it. I want to be smart about it."

He trailed a finger over her cheek. "I do too. I don't want you to think I'm pushing you either, Ror. That's the last thing I want. It's not easy to keep my hands off you but I'd never -"

"I know," she cut him off by putting a finger on his lips. "I trust you." 

He smiled at that. He couldn't remember anyone saying that to him ever, never remembered having to live up to such a great responsibility. "I'm glad."

A mischievous look took over her features. "Just because we can't have sex, doesn't mean we can't do other things."

Tristan laughed and flipped them over. Languidly he pressed her against the mattress and grabbed her wrists in his hands above her head. He lowered his mouth to hers and murmured, "You're right. I am a bad influence on you."


	40. Chapter 40: Letting Go

**Dedication: **_To Surya, on her birthday (belated, I'm sorry babe!). To Susie for being the best beta ever and letting me be the spoiled brat that I am.****_

Chapter 40: Letting Go

If someone had told Rory Gilmore a year ago – hell, a month ago - that she'd be in Tristan DuGrey's bed, half-naked while he did nefarious things to her body, then she would have checked them into the nearest asylum and then locked herself in her bedroom to fight off the visions that her surprisingly vivid imagination had conjured up.

Now? Not so much. 

And she really didn't need her imagination when the reality of the situation was better than anything her mind could conjure up. After all, who needed an imaginary Tristan when the real one was currently kissing a trail down her stomach, only stopping to grin against her skin when she moaned incoherently? 

Her fingers buried in his hair, grasping tightly onto the soft strands and her legs were drawn up on either side of him. Her breathing, already shallow, slowed down even more as he sat up between her legs and then pulled them around his waist, his eyes – darkened with lust - locked with hers. Slowly, teasingly, he slid his hands up her legs, leaving behind a trail of fire on her skin. Tristan smirked a little, watching her eyes flutter close and then open again as his hands continued up her thighs, every caress sending her already well-honed senses into overdrive. 

She bit her trembling lower lip as his hands disappeared under her skirt, danced along her hip bone and then dipped under the elastic of her panties, only for the briefest of seconds. His gaze lowered and then, without warning, his hands slid under her rear, causing her to gasp at the bold move. Instinctively, she arched into him, lifting her lower body from the bed, her legs tightening around his waist. 

Before she knew what was happening, he had dragged the zipper of her Chilton skirt down and unclasped the belt at her side. He stopped for a moment and looked at her to make sure. Rory nodded slightly so he sat up, pulling her along with him. After fumbling around a bit, she managed to kick the offending piece of clothing somewhere to the left of his bed and then settled on his lap. As their lips fused together, his arms around wrapped her waist and her breasts pressed against his chest, creating a sensation that went straight to her center.

Every nerve in her body seemed to be on full-alert and scorching as their kiss deepened and his hands trailed down her back; his fingers running down her spine causing her to moan into the kiss. They broke apart and she pulled back, smiling a little trying to catch her breath. "Are you sure they door's locked?"

"Yes," he replied, panting. His hands gripped her waist and dragged her further up his lap until she could feel him through the thin cotton on her already damp panties. "Relax Gilmore."

She gasped when he arched up slightly, pressing closer to her as his lips latched onto her breast. "Not likely."

Tristan let out a throaty chuckle against her skin and a shiver ran up her spine. 

Rory knew that it was her sudden temerity that had encouraged him to go further but she wasn't really sure what exactly _that_ meant. She also realized that worrying about it when they were in nothing but their underwear, in the middle of his bed was not really the best thing, but now that she was there, she had no idea what to do with her hands or her lips or other parts of her anatomy to make it as pleasurable for him as it was for her. 

While he lavished his attention on her breasts, she let her hands travel up his back before she gave up and then dug them into his hair. What else could she do? He seemed to be in charge, which she figured was a good thing since she was at an utter loss. So she closed her eyes and enjoyed the moment, as selfish as it seemed. 

"Rory?" he asked, his head burrowed in the valley between her breasts.

"Yes?" she answered breathlessly.

"What are you doing?" 

Her eyes shot open as he lifted his head and looked up at her, questioningly, albeit slightly annoyed. She laughed nervously. "I don't know."

The small, understanding smile that curled his lips was enough for her to want to kiss him again. "You're tense. This will be a lot more enjoyable if you calm down. Trust me."

Rory leaned forward and brushed her lips against his. "I do trust you. I'm just not sure what I'm supposed to do."

"Well you can start by kissing me again."

It was her turn to smile as she kissed him softly. His tongue ran across her lower lip and she parted her lips to deepen the kiss; causing the tension to slowly seep out of her as the warm sensation took over and relaxed into his embrace. His fingers tangled in her hair and she cupped his face with her hands as the kiss grew hotter and more frantic. He broke away and pushed her back onto the bed, kissing her neck, her shoulders, returning them to their original position – him resting comfortably between her legs. 

Tentatively, she let her hands trail down his back again, loving the way his taut muscles seemed to almost jump at her touch. Experimentally, she let them graze lower to the small of his back and then in a sweeping gesture, all the way back up between his shoulder blades. A grin - one of pure female delight - tugged at her lips when he moaned against her skin, and she repeated the motion a couple of times, kissing his collarbone and Adam's apple before biting the junction between his neck and shoulders. He moaned her name and seized her mouth again, in a hot and insistent kiss.  

Rory's hands stilled on his back as the weight of him, the solid and steady weight of him pressed her into the mattress and she literally felt all the breath leave her body. She broke the kiss, gasping slightly as he pressed his very apparent arousal to her center; the only thing separating them was the cotton of their underwear. 

Tristan was grinning now and she could see the gleam in his eyes, the intensity of the hunger in them sending a shiver: part fear, part excitement through her. 

She bit her lower lip as the fear won out and she tensed again as he slowly ground his hips against hers. Her eyes must have widened; her apprehension was probably palpable to him, because he frowned slightly and leaned forward to kiss her. She could feel herself shaking slightly, the nerves that she couldn't seem to fight or calm down, took a hold of her. Rory knew he could sense it and she tried to kiss him back more ardently, hoping to convey that she didn't want him to stop.

But his kiss remained feather-soft as he trailed his lips from her mouth to her jaw and then along the side of her neck and up to her earlobe. Then, he pulled away from her and rolled to one side, lying down beside her, one leg still entwined with hers. Softly, he whispered, "You know how long I've been waiting for this? For you?"

One hand traveled up her side, skimming her breast and he tugged at her earlobe with is teeth. "Mmm…" she murmured incoherently. 

"It was your first day at Chilton," he answered huskily and she opened her mouth to protest that he was just being a jackass that day but his hand closed over her breast and the words died at her lips. "And then, when you yelled at me during Mr. Medina's Shakespeare exam."

A disbelieving giggle escaped her lips and she managed to choke out, "You're insane."

"I'm serious," he said again, his voice like honey. He kissed the base of her throat and his thumb flicked over her nipple. "I thought about what it would be like to feel your skin under my lips." He demonstrated by kissing her neck and she shivered deliciously. "And how you'd feel under me," He lowered his head to the valley between her breasts. His voice was hypnotic and sensual, like a caress against her skin as he continued, "And how you'd moan my name when I ran my teeth across your sensitive skin." 

He closed his mouth around the pebbled skin of her breast and bit down, _hard_.

"_Tris_-tan," she said softly, arching into him. His voice along with the way his hands ran over her skin in a possessive and thoroughly intoxicating manner, had heat curling low in her belly and spreading to places in her that she didn't even know could heat up. 

"And the best part is," he told her, kissing the corner of her mouth and his hand ran all over her stomach, "you have no idea how hot you really are. So damn hot." 

Something female and primal in her rejoiced at that, at the sheer need in his voice and urgency of his wandering hands. The heat was blazing, a fire that he'd so easily lit in her with husky words and soft, smooth hands. She felt helpless but in a good way; shaking under him, from heat and nerves and something else she couldn't quite place. "God," she breathed out as he pressed up beside her. 

"You walk into a room and I can't think of anything," he admitted as his fingers circled her bellybutton. "Anything except the fastest way to get you to breathe like you are now, to feel like you do right now." 

Rory swallowed as his hand traveled down her stomach, to the edge of her panties. He pulled back, to look at her and she took in another shuddering breath, as his fingers slid slowly under the elastic but didn't move after that. She bit her lower lip and met his eyes a little unfocused but still able to gauge the darkness of his irises, the hunger of his gaze. 

The lust, this time, was stronger than the fear.

Sensing this, Tristan leaned forward to kiss her again. His hand remained exactly where it was, his palm resting against her stomach, scorching the skin there as he kissed her thoroughly. Unsure of what he was planning on doing next, she threaded her fingers in his hair and lost herself in the feel of his lips and tongue. 

Then, almost imperceptibly, his hand on her stomach moved downward, over her panties and slowly cupped her. The shock of the gesture and the little current of electricity that ran up her spine caused her to moan into the kiss and twine his hair in her fingers. She broke the kiss, in need of air and was able to gulp once before he covered her mouth again. His hand moved up and down the swatch of cloth between her legs, in a rhythmic motion that mimicked the way his tongue was moving in her mouth. 

Inferno was the only word that came to Rory's mind. It was like being in the middle of a blazing inferno that was rapidly spreading its finger though her blood and bones. He kissed her breasts and her mind-numbed with pleasure as he continued his ministrations, more frantic and urgent. She felt something unknown and so exciting build inside her in a steady cadence. She struggled for enough air to speak properly and even then, it came out in a breathy half-moan, half-whisper, "Tristan, please…" 

She wasn't even sure what she was asking for but in a heartbeat he abandoned all inhibitions and moved the cloth away from her body and plunged his finger inside, not even waiting for her acquiescence, which, she would have incoherently given him anyway. The feel of him _there_, finally, was pure bliss. 

He continued with his ministrations and kissed the side of her face, tracing his lips to her ear to whisper, "Let go, Rory." 

With that, he began moving his thumb against a particularly sensitive spot and she felt the first waves of an orgasm overtake her and she shuddered against his hands, softly crying out his name. 

The tremors receded slowly and all her thoughts came rushing back into her brain along with her blood. She felt Tristan nuzzle her neck and trail his hand from her panties up her stomach. Her eyes fluttered open, slowly, as she felt a blush rise to her cheeks. He looked at her and smiled propping his elbow next to her. The heat from her face intensified as she still felt his need grazing against her thigh.

His hand came to her cheek and she lifted her head off the pillow to kiss him softly, not really knowing what to say to the guy who gave her, her first orgasm. It was then her gaze caught the alarm clock on his side table and her eyes widened in surprise.

"Oh my God!"

"What?" he asked as she pushed him away and scrambled off the bed again, searching frantically for her bra as she grabbed her blouse off the lampshade on his bedside table. "Rory, where the hell are you going?"

"Home!" she answered as she struggled into her bra, unable to reach behind and clasp it. "Oh my God! Oh my God! Tristan, stop staring at my breasts and help me clasp this freaking thing!" 

Wordlessly, Tristan reached over and helped her. "I don't understand what's going on here but you don't have to _run_ home, Gilmore." 

The exasperation in the tone of his voice, which she almost missed in her hurry to get dressed, had her turning around and giving him an apologetic smile. She scrambled back to him on the bed and took his face in her hands. "Tristan, you didn't do anything. You're great." She kissed him softly. "I just have to get home. My mom's expecting me."

"Oh," he stated, curling a finger in one strand of hair. "Why didn't you just say that instead of freaking out like you always do when something climactic happens between us?" He paused to grin. "Pun intended." 

She giggled even as she blushed. "I'm sorry, I don't mean to. But I promise I'm not freaking out or anything. I just have to get home before mom does. There's no way Charleston hasn't called home to inform her about my, uh, absence. And I need to get home and erase the message before she hears it."

"Naughty girl," Tristan chided as she slipped into her blouse and then looked around for her skirt. "But you said she was expecting you."

"Yeah, we have this tradition. Birthday week. We do things together a week before our birthdays." He nodded smiling a little and then reaching over under the bed to retrieve her skirt. She smiled gratefully and slipped into it as she slid off the bed. "Yeah, well, lately with everything we haven't been able to do anything this week. So she was going to leave work early today and tomorrow to make it up to me." 

"You missed one." He came around the bed and slid the middle button on her shirt close. She gave him half-hearted smile and he brought a finger under her chin. "Hey, what's wrong?" 

"She's going to be so pissed off," she replied, trying to remain calm. "And she's going to jump to conclusions and this is not how I want it to be."

"It'll be okay," he said softly. "She trusts you."

"Not if I make a habit of bunking school to be with you," she shot back and then sighed when his hand dropped from her face. "Tristan, I want this to work out so badly. I don't want my mother to second guess me and I don't want to feel guilty about being with you or doing things with you."

"Rory," he stated so firmly that she locked her eyes with his serious ones. "Working out doesn't mean it's going to be smooth, okay? Go home, tell your mom that everything is fine and if she gets angry, it's her problem. Don't let her make you feel guilty for doing this because frankly it makes me feel like shit." 

She heaved another sigh and rested her forehead against his chest. "I'm sorry," she mumbled against his skin. She stood there for a minute and took a few deep breaths before lifting her head again. "You're right."

He wrapped his arms around her waist and kissed her forehead. "Of course I am. Gimme a second and then I'll have James drive you home." 

~*~ ~*~ ~*~

Lorelai stared at the phone sitting innocently on the coffee table, willing it to ring for the umpteenth time. She had received a call from the Headmaster Charleston's office at around half past three to inform her that Rory had cut school right after lunch. At first, she checked her calendar to make sure it wasn't April first and then in a minute, made up a lie about Rory being sick and coming straight home. Donna, the secretary had reprimanded her for three minutes, lecturing her on the school's attendance policy before wishing her a frosty good day. 

After that, Lorelai called Paris who informed her, after some coaxing, about Rory's whereabouts.

_Like it takes a genius to figure out_, Lorelai had thought bitterly. _I should have known_. She called Christopher and complained to his voice mail about their wayward daughter and the spawn of the devil that had led her astray – yes, she had used those exact descriptions – before coming home to wait for Rory to show up or even call. 

"She's with him now," she muttered as she stared at the TV. "She's with him and she doesn't even remember that we have plans. I knew this was going to happen. I'm losing my daughter to that, that…ugh, there isn't even a name!" 

The front door opened then and Rory rushed in, hair slightly disheveled and a sheepish grin on her face. "Hi Mom!"

"Hi Mom? _Hi Mom_?!" Lorelai almost yelled as she stood up. "You cut school, miss a history exam that you stayed up half the night to study for, run off to your boyfriend's house – and I don't even want to think about what you were doing there – and then you forget that we have plans and all you can say is 'Hi Mom!'?" 

"Mom, don't you think -"

"If the words 'overreacting a little' come out of your mouth, Lorelai Gilmore, then -"

Rory dropped her bag near the couch and her eyes widened. "Then what, Mom? You're going to _ground_ me without listening to what I have to say? Since when has that ever been an option?"

"Since you went and changed all the rules, Rory!" she yelled back, her anger mounting steadily. "We were fine until you went and started acting like a crazy, irresponsible, hormone-driven…"

"Teenager? Look at me! I am!" Rory finished for her, hands on hips. Lorelai was taken aback at the intensity of her daughter's voice and the determined set of her jaw. Then she took a few calming breaths before continuing, "Mom, I'm sorry that I cut class. But it's not what you think. At all. Just listen to me for a second."

_She's smarter than we were, Lor_, Christopher's voice rang in her head. _We have to let her go. _Lorelai let out a labored sigh of her own and crossed her arms over her chest. "So what happened?" 

Rory told her story. "…and we fell asleep. It _was_ stupid but by the time we woke up, it was too late to do anything about it. I'm sorry."

Lorelai wanted to tell her sorry wasn't good enough. She wanted to forbid Rory from seeing Tristan ever again so that something like this would never happen. She wanted to ask her to stop being a teenager. She regarded her daughter for a minute, realizing how much Rory looked like her at that moment, and let out a resigned sigh.

"Alright. Go get changed and let's go have some fun." 


	41. Chapter 41: Pot Shots & Mind Games

**Disclaimer**: The phrase "Butch Cassidy and the Sun_dunce_ kid" is not mine. I borrowed it from _Run Away Little Boy_.

**Dedication: **To the usual suspects. And thank you to everyone who has been leaving me feedback for this fic. I know I can't get back to all of you for it but it means a whole lot to know you're still following this fic.

****

Chapter 41: Pot Shots & Mind Games

The next day found Rory scrambling to get into her clothes again, but this time she headed off for school, running a little later than the bus schedule would allow. She wouldn't be able to stop at _Luke's_ for coffee. Even though her alarm had been ringing non-stop in her ear, she had shut it off with a whack and fell back into what felt like the most gorgeous sleep she had ever had. As she thought about what exactly made her feel so content, her cheeks reddened. Struggling into her blazer, she called out, "Mom! Have you seen my shoes?" 

"By the door!" Lorelai shouted from upstairs. "Where you left them when you rushed in yesterday after spending the afternoon with your boyfriend!"

Rory rolled her eyes. How long was Lorelai going to keep taking shots for that? If she couldn't confide in her about what happened in Tristan's bed, how the hell was she supposed to tell her when she finally did have sex without having it hang over her head for the rest of her life? "Thank you, _Mother_!"

She slipped on her Mary Janes and then mumbled something about almost being eighteen, she picked up her backpack and walked out the front door, not bothering to close it behind her since Lorelai was sure to follow soon. She adjusted her backpack and blazer on the porch and then looked up and stopped at the sight on her lawn.

A sleek, black limo was glistening in the morning sun and familiar chauffeur was standing near it, reading the newspaper. 

"Um, hi, James," Rory said tentatively, as she approached him. 

He looked up from his paper and smiled at her widely before folding his newspaper. "Good morning, Rory. Tristan sent me."

"I can see that, but, uh, why?"

James handed her an envelope. "I'm not entirely sure, but I'm sure he does."

Rory opened the envelope and found a card inside, off-white and embossed with flowers in the front. She opened it and felt her lips tug upwards at Tristan's familiar scrawl. 

_Hey beautiful,_

_Thought you could use some coffee._

_Tristan_

She smiled widely as the butterflies spread through her, but before she could say anything Lorelai came outside, buttoning her jacket and did a double take." Whoa, who died?"

"Tristan sent the limo, Mom."

"Oh you've got a real catch, Ror," Lorelai deadpanned and then lowered her voice so James wouldn't hear. "A guy who sends you a stretch limo to ride in after he kept you in his room the entire afternoon doing God knows what to soften the blow for dear old mom."

"Oh yes because this is all about you, Mom. It's all part of his evil plan to get _you_ to like him."

"Well, he doesn't need to do anything to get you to like him," Lorelai shot back and then pulled down the collar of Rory's shirt to inspect the new hickey on her neck. "You like him _a lot_, apparently." Rory blushed and pulled the collar up again, glad that James wasn't close enough to hear. "Besides, the boy obviously doesn't know you that well to think that a fancy ride is the way to a Gilmore's heart when it's obviously -"

"Coffee," James cut her off as he offered them to two large Styrofoam cups of coffee with no logo. "That coffee's made by the DuGrey's housekeeper and Tristan asked me to tell you that nothing can beat this coffee not even…what's the name he used? _Luke's_?" 

Rory beamed and turned to her mother. "You were saying?"

"Damn." Lorelai shook her head, took a sip of coffee and then closed her eyes. "The boy is pure evil."

James grinned. "That's what his grandfather always says."

Rory laughed and then hugged Lorelai goodbye. "I'll see you after school." 

"Only if you know, it's okay with _lover_boy," Lorelai said.

She rolled her eyes and sighed heavily. "Mom."

Lorelai held up one hand in surrender and shrugged. "Okay, no more pot shots. I promise. Four-thirty at _Luke's_. Lane's meeting us there too. Have a good one."

"Can we drop you off, Ms. Gilmore?" James asked, smiling charmingly.

"Oh no, that's okay," she replied, jangling her car keys in the air for effect. "We all can't date rich boys." Rory glared at her as she got into the limo. "Oops, sorry babe, that slipped. I love you."

~*~ ~*~ ~*~ 

"Hey T-man," Brett Thompson said as he approached Tristan at his locker, he had to bite his tongue to keep from snapping at Brett for his relentless use of the horrible nickname. "How's it going?"

"Pretty good," Tristan replied with a tight smile. Brett was a nice guy most of the time but he had the annoying tendency to hang around everywhere Tristan went and his classmates teased him for having a sophomore lapdog. It was disconcerting to say the least but Tristan had to keep up appearances since the Thompsons and DuGreys had known each other for generations. "How you doing, man?" 

"Good. Though I'm having a little trouble in Remmy's class."

"Yeah, he's a slave driver."

"That's what I wanted to talk to you about," he said, haltingly. "I was kind hoping you'd ask Rory to help me with some stuff. I was talking to my guidance counselor and he suggested I get a tutor. He also suggested I ask Paris Gellar or Rory and frankly, Paris kind of scares me." 

"Yeah, join the club," Tristan laughed. "Why don't _you_ just ask Rory?"

Brett smiled sheepishly. "I just…you know, don't know her that well. And I know how you are with her."

Tristan looked at him quizzically. "What is that supposed to mean?" 

"C'mon, T-man," he said shrugging. "You're like all 'grr' and caveman when it comes to her. I just wanted to make sure that you'd be okay with it, is all."

Tristan let out a laugh. "Brett, man, go ahead. I'm not her keeper. Ask her yourself." When Brett looked dubious, he rolled his eyes. "I give you permission to ask her."

The other boy nodded, smiling a little. Then he leaned against the locker next to Tristan. "And while we're on the subject of Rory. She kinda dashed out of the cafeteria yesterday. People were talking, especially with all the rumors flying around again. She's okay, right?"

He smirked, thinking about just how okay she was yesterday. "Yeah, she's fine."

Brett ran a hand through his dark hair as Tristan shut his locker. "That's good. Dude, Summer is just totally relentless. If I didn't know better I'd say she was crazy jealous of Rory. I mean she dumped you, right? She should get over it. She's not going to give up until she drags Rory's name through the mud."

Tristan sighed and felt guilty. It was his fault that Rory was at the receiving end of Summer's slander campaign and he felt incredibly helpless that he couldn't do anything about it. Rory wasn't used to being the subject of gossip and he knew that the last incident probably had her feeling tremendously uncomfortable in a world she was just getting used to. He voiced his concern out loud, without realizing Brett was still there. "I wish there was something I could do. Something I could hold over Summer's head."

The sophomore grinned widely. "Well, there is one thing." 

Tristan straightened. "What? Don't hold out on me, man." 

"Well, that night at _Club Soda_? The night she claims you wanted her again because Rory was such a terrible…" he trailed off, unable to finish. "You know." 

Tristan clenched his fist. God, he really hoped Rory hadn't heard every word of the rumor in detail; she'd be mortified. "Go on."

"I was with Carmen and after you disappeared, Summer got really smashed. I mean, like totally wasted. It was really pathetic. We left after that and in the parking lot, we saw her get in a car with – man, you'll never believe this: Duncan and Bowman," Brett finished with a triumphant grin. "Dude, she was all _over_ them."

Tristan felt his lips curving as the implication set it and a small thrill ran up his spine. "You're sure?"

"As the sky is high," he returned easily. "Carmen saw it too. Summer's not exactly her favorite person. Besides, Duncan and Bowman were looking pretty happy yesterday. You just say the words and I'll spread this juicy tidbit like wildfire." 

Tristan slapped him on the shoulder and chuckled. "Not yet. This is just what I need. Now if you'll excuse me, I need to go talk to an ex." 

Brett laughed. "What are you going to say?"

"The usual. Threaten, demean, blackmail," he said with a shrug as he turned and headed towards Summer's locker. Then he turned back to Brett. "Hey Thompson, thanks man. I owe you."

"No problem." 

Chuckling, Tristan made his way through the maze of students, stopping occasionally to chat with a classmate before coming upon Summer, near her locker talking to her cronies, Janet and Amy. He approached them, hands in pockets and a charming smile on his face. "Ladies. If you don't mind, I need to speak with Summer for a moment." 

The other girls scurried away, glancing over their shoulders and then whispering to each other conspiratorially. Summer narrowed her gaze. "What do you want?"

"A lot of things," he replied smoothly as he leaned against the locker next to hers. "But for now? For you to leave Rory the hell alone." 

Summer smirked, tilting her head to the side. "Isn't that sweet? Who would've ever thought that Tristan DuGrey would protect Rory's honor? Really, it's very gallant of you."

"I'm not kidding, Summer."

"No, of course you're not. Though I do have to wonder what it is about Gilmore that has you acting this way," she said, lowering her voice covertly. "Maybe I'm wrong. Maybe she really is a terrific fu -"

"Finish that sentence and the whole school will know about your drunken three-way with Butch Cassidy and the Sundunce kid," he cut her off, his voice low and dangerous. He had to stop himself from smiling in glee at the horror on her face. "I'm sure it would do wonders for your popularity."

She tried to remain unaffected and shrugged it off, her eyes determined and very angry. "I'll just deny it."

"You could," he agreed evenly and then pushed off the locker and took a step forward, looming over her. His voice fell almost to a whisper. "But a couple of people saw you. And I'm sure it won't take that much persuasion on my part to get Duncan and Bowman to tell the entire school what a terrific fuck _you_ really are."

She glared at him for a minute, clutching the strap of her book bag so tightly that her knuckles turned white. "Fine."

"I'm sorry," he said, leaning in a little. "I didn't hear you."

"I said _fine_," she replied, harshly. "I'll leave your precious girlfriend alone."

He straightened up and gave her a friendly smile. "Summer, I always knew you were smarter than you let on. Just never mess with me again, sweetheart. You'll always lose."

Angrily, she pushed past him and stormed down the hallway. With a self-satisfied smirk Tristan turned around only to come face to face with Rory, who was looking at him curiously, the cup of coffee that he had sent her was still in her hand as she approached him.

"What was that about?" she asked, leaning up to place a soft kiss on his lips.

He cupped her face with one hand, ran the pad of his thumb over her cheek. "Just taking care of a few things. Let's just say Summer won't have anything but nice things to say about you from now on."

"I strongly doubt anything will make Summer say nice things about me."

"Well, okay, then at least she won't spread any more vicious rumors about you."

"What did you do?" Tristan briefed her on the rumor, leaving out the part about the rumor concerning her and she grinned broadly.  "Wow. You're just on a roll today with making a good impression aren't you? With the coffee and the limo. It was, by the way, totally unnecessary but very much appreciated."

They continued down the hallways, his arm around her waist. "You're very welcome."

 "If only my mom could see this," she sighed taking the last sip of her coffee and then throwing the cup into a nearby by trash can. 

"Speaking of whom, how'd it go with her yesterday?"

"Very odd." Rory told him what happened and he cocked an eyebrow, surprised. "I don't know what's going on in her head at the moment. But she seems cool with it. In fact, she's going to call Ms. McCain and schedule a make-up exam for me."

"Damn, I'm going to have to find a way to convince my dad to do that same." She rolled her eyes and then, suddenly grabbed his hand and pulled him into an empty classroom. "What are you doing?"

She closed the door behind her, slid her hands up his chest and around his neck and grinned. "We still have a couple of minutes until homeroom and I really wanna show you just how grateful I am."

And then, she covered his mouth with hers.

~*~ ~*~ ~*~ 

"Oomph," Lorelai stated as she ran into a wall of muscle, making a sharp turn at the end of one of the aisle at _Doose's, _the top of her head hitting bone. She glanced up quickly at her attacker and let out a small gasp. "Oh, Dean! I didn't hurt you did I?"

Gingerly, the boy rubbed his chin. "I always knew you were a hard-headed woman."

"Oh very funny," she shot back touching her head. "No one asked you to be this tall."

They grinned at each other for a minute before Dean looked down at the bags she was holding in her hands. "Wow, that's a lot of potato chips. Are you having a party?"

Lorelai bit her bottom lip. _This could get awkward_. "Yeah. Sort of. You could call it a party. Or a hoot-nanny. A shindig, if you were born in the seventies. Which I was. "

Realization dawned in his eyes as she rambled and he nodded slowly. "Rory's turning eighteen on Sunday."

"Yeah," she replied again, smiling widely. Of course Dean Forester would remember an ex-girlfriend's birthday. He was always good to her, good for her. The reason for their break up seemed a little foggy to Lorelai at that moment. "They grow up so fast." 

"Well, I have to get back to work before Taylor has an aneurysm," he said with a grin, pushing his hair out his eyes. "But will you please tell Rory I said 'Happy Birthday'?" 

"Yeah, I'll do that," she said as he went around her. Then, without thinking, she turned quickly and grabbed his forearm. "Actually, Dean, why don't you tell her yourself? Come to the party. It starts at six."

He looked at her, torn. "I'm not sure -"

"Rory'll want you there," she assured him even as a little voice in her head screamed _No, she won't! _"It'll be fine."

He gave her an adorably crooked smile. "I'll be there." 


	42. Chapter 42: It's My Party

**Dedication: **To the bestest friend and beta ever, Susie, on her birthday. Hope you had a good one, doll.****

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Chapter 42: It's My Party

"How about this one?" Lane asked as she held up a navy sheath dress, one Rory's mother had bought her last year because it was 'absolutely vital' that she have it. It was spaghetti strapped and fell just above Rory's knees, complimenting her curves and skirted the line between sophisticated and daring perfectly. The owner frowned, uncertain and her friend shook her head. "I know it's a Stars Hollow party but you're eighteen, Ror. The people of this crazy town need to stop looking at you like you're a little girl."

Rory sighed and walked over to her friend who was standing near the dresser, holding the dress to her body. Rory fingered the material of the dress, soft and silky against her fingertips. "I know but there's too much change already. I mean, I have friends from _Chilton_ coming to this party, my boyfriend who is like, the antithesis of what everyone expects my boyfriend to be is coming with his _surfer_ friend from LA…and if I walk out wearing that dress…"

"Then what Rory?" Lane prodded gently. "People will be uncomfortable that their princess isn't what they expect?"

Rory knew it sounded ridiculous but what the people of Stars Hollow thought wasn't what really bothered her. "I might give my mother a heart attack."

Lane shook her head and put a hand on Rory's shoulder, aware of the depth of her friend's anxiety. The two best friends had spent most of Sunday morning preparing for the party with Lorelai and then when they were alone in Rory's room, the birthday girl had unleashed all her fears on Lane, mostly about how she felt like there was a subtle yet ever-increasing rift between her and Lorelai. "Did you ever think that maybe if you did this, it would give Lorelai a sign? Show her that you've grown up?"

"I don't think she wants to see that yet."

"You know I love Lorelai but that's her problem, okay?" Lane stated with conviction. "She'll deal with it, Rory. In her own time and own way, she'll deal with it. But you need to stick to what you want. Take it from someone who can't really live like she wants to. If I did, I would totally sever my relationship with Mama. But Lorelai…she knows. She'll understand."

"You don't know that, Lane! You should have been here when we fought about Tristan. You should feel the tension in the air every time his name is uttered," Rory returned desperately, taking the dress out of Lane's hands. "It's not easy for her. As much as I'd like her to be the Lorelai I grew up with…she's not, okay? And I can't blame her for being a mother."

Lane nodded and then shrugged looking at the blue silk. "It's just a dress, Rory."

"Exactly. And I don't want to start another fight over a dress. You know, choose my battles wisely," she replied, waving her hand in the air for effect. She turned to her mirror, examining the dress against her body, imagining the way it would fall and cater to her curves. If she borrowed her mother's earrings, the effect would be rather nice.

"You're the birthday girl, Ror," her friend stated, sitting down on the foot of the bed. "This isn't about choosing battles."

Rory nodded at her friend through the mirror. "I know." She sighed and looked at the dress again, contemplating. If she wore her hair down, let it fall in waves down her shoulder…Tristan liked it like that. "It's a really great dress."

"Forget about Lorelai," Lane suggested calmly as she picked up Colonel Clucker and hugged him to her chest. "Think about the look on Tristan's face when he sees you in it. Or you know…when he's picturing you out of it."

"Lane!" Rory burst out, scandalized, and a blush spread across her face. She started to giggle as her friend laughed. "I cannot believe you said that."

"Oh please," her friend shot back, giggling. "Like the thought didn't cross your mind." Rory smirked in a way that would have made Tristan proud, causing Lane to shake her head in amusement. "That boy has gotten to you in ways you don't even know about yet, hasn't he?"

Blushing, Rory ordered Lane to turn around so she could slip into the dress. "Zip me up?" she asked once she was done and turned back to the mirror. "Well, what about you, Lane? Any action after Mrs. Kim found out about Henry?"

Lane frowned, finished zipping the dress and shook her head. "No one. Although Principal Adams asked me to show this guy around school, help him with classes and stuff. Dave Rygalski."

"Cute?" Rory asked as she applied some blush.

"Don't know. He starts Monday."

There was a knock on the door before Lorelai peeked inside. She gave Rory an appreciative smile. "Honey, you look beautiful."

Lane gave Rory a I-told-you-so look and the birthday girl smiled and thanked her mother. "You know what would look great with this dress?"

Lorelai came into the room and extended her hand, dropping her earrings into Rory's palm. "Got it covered, babe. Now put those on and follow me outside. I have a surprise before the party starts."

As soon as they stepped out into the backyard, Rory and Lane screamed simultaneously. "Oh my God!"

In the backyard, stood a shining silver car, a KIA Rio to be exact, with a big red bow placed decoratively on the hood. Rory turned to her mother, eyes big and disbelieving. "You bought me a car?"

"Actually, I did," Christopher said as he stepped out from behind her, dangling the keys in front of her face. Rory yelped in surprise and then threw her arms around her father. "Happy Birthday, sweetie."

"Thank you, thank you, thank you!" Rory exclaimed. She twisted in her father's embrace to make sure the car was really there. "I don't know how you convinced Mom but thank you so much!"

"I know it's not the first car you've had," Christopher said, smiling widely at Lorelai, "but I wanted to be the first one who bought you one. Your mom agreed as long as she gets to by you your first jet."

"You guys are so cool," Lane commented, shaking her head. "C'mon Ror, let's take it for a spin before the party starts."

"Thank you!" Rory hugged both her parents before running to her brand new car. She turned around and squealed. "This is the best birthday ever!"

- & -

By five fifteen, most of the guests had arrived and Rory kept glancing at the clock, wondering where Tristan was. She had to check the urge to call him on his cell and was very close to asking Lane to do it for her. Apart from being one of those girls who had to keep tabs on their boyfriend all the time, she didn't want to sound like she couldn't have fun unless he was there.

She just hoped that he'd get there soon.

"Rory," Louise called her as she approached from behind, Madeline and Paris in tow. "Happy Birthday."

"Thanks Louise! I'm so glad you could make it!" she said accepting the gift and giving all three girls a hug as they gave her presents. "Hey Mads. Paris."

"So is there going to be alcohol at this party?"

Rory furrowed her brow and gestured around the room. "Parents around, so no. But there's some really good strawberry-kiwi punch."

"Let the good times roll," Paris said as she led the two girls away to get punch and probably look for Jess.

The doorbell rang and Rory smiled widely, realizing that Tristan was the only one left to come. She headed for the door just as Lorelai followed her, gesturing widely and trying to grab her elbow. Rory threw her a funny look over her shoulder but kept walking to the door.

"Uh, honey," Lorelai said as she quickly followed, trampling over a few guests in her haste. "There's a little thing that I forgot to mention to you in all my wonderful planning and preparations for this joyous event in your life. Okay, um, babe, you might not want to rush to the door like that before you know who might be standing out there."

"As long as it's not a cop, I'm happy," Rory giggled, missing the note of urgency in her mother's voice.

"Oh it's worse. It's um, your ex-boyfriend." When Rory stopped abruptly at the door, whirled around and looked at her mother with a blank expression, Lorelai continued. "You know Dean, tall, floppy hair. You loved him for two years."

"Of course I remember him!" Rory finally yelled, outraged. "You invited Dean. _You invited Dean_? Mo-_o__m_! What would ever possesed you to do something like that?"

Lorelai wrung her hands and jumped a little in agitation and guilt. "I don't know. He was standing there and he remembered it was your birthday and asked me to pass on birthday wishes and I kept thinking to myself 'He's so sweet and tall, he still cares about Rory' and before I knew it, I invited him. And he was so happy. You know I've always had a soft spot for him! I can't help it!"

Rory rolled her eyes and stared at the door dubiously. She was mature. She could deal with her ex-boyfriend and her current boyfriend being in one room without having a nervous breakdown on her birthday. "I just hope Tristan understands."

"I'll cross my fingers and my toes," Lorelai offered uselessly, guiltily.

"You do that, Mom," she shot back as Lorelai took refuge in the kitchen.

When she opened the door, Dean gave her a sheepish smile. "Hey."

"Hey," she replied, leaning against the door and playing with the doorknob. They stared at each other for a few awkward minutes before he raised his eyebrows expectantly. She felt herself blush and she gestured for him to come in. "Sorry."

"I can leave if this is too weird."

"No!" she protested quickly, although there was a selfish part of her that wanted him to go: the part that didn't want to stand between Tristan and Dean all night with entire town wondering if the two boys were going to brawl. But the loyal (and masochistic) part of her wanted to have someone she cared about at her party. "Please don't leave. Come in."

He stepped in and cautiously looked around, probably seeking Tristan. He turned to her and smiled. "Your mom invited me, I missed you and I wanted to wish you a happy birthday and bring you a gift so I came."

"I appreciate that," Rory said sincerely, turning away from the open door. "I miss you, too."

They stood there, grinning at each other for a moment before Dean extended the small blue gift bag in his hand forward, in her direction. "Happy birthday, Rory."

"Thank you." She took the bag from his hand and smiled before wrapping one hand around his waist and giving him an awkward half-hug. He laughed a little and put both his arms around her properly.

"Well, isn't this cozy?" A familiar voice drawled from behind her and she turned around so quickly, she elbowed Dean in the ribs in the process, untangling from Dean's embrace. Tristan leaned against the doorway as he assessed her, his expression inscrutable.

"Tristan! Hey!" she stated brightly, ignoring the way his eyes narrowed at Dean. She took a step forward to hug him and then lifted her face to kiss his cheek. "Where's Joe?"

"Right here," Joe said as he appeared behind Tristan, his grin fading when he sensed the obvious tension in the foyer. He glanced at the back of his friend's head, then at Dean who was staring at Tristan in what could only be described as determination, and then at Rory was just feeling very tense. "Uh, happy birthday Rory!"

"Thanks Joe!"

Before any teen could say anything else, Lorelai appeared behind Dean once again and smiled brightly. "Hi Dean, hi Tristan and a boy I am assuming is Joe."

"That'd be me," Joe grinned and waved.

"Dean, could you come back with me and help me with the thinger?" she asked as Rory shot her a grateful look. "It's up high. And heavy. And I need a…just c'mon!"

She led Dean away as Tristan and Joe stepped into the foyer and closed the door behind them. Rory looked at her boyfriend, eyes wide and imploring. "Mom invited him. I didn't know he was coming until right before I opened the door."

Tristan ran a hand through his hair, sighing as he muttered. "Of course she did."

Rory bit her bottom lip and looked over his shoulder at Joe who shrugged before she touched Tristan's arm and asked, "Are you okay with that?"

Tristan took both her hands in his and scrutinized her face. "Do you want him here?"

Because he was looking at her so intently, she knew she couldn't lie to him. "Yes." His expression didn't change but she could see the flicker of hurt in his eyes and she quickly added, "But not as much as I want _you_ here."

A corner of his mouth turned upward and he shrugged. "Then I'm okay with it." Rory smiled widely, flung her arms around his neck and kissed him softly. He held her in place as she turned to go and whispered huskily, "You look incredibly delectable in that dress. Happy birthday."

She blushed, still grinning. "Thank you."

He let her go and she led them into the party as Joe grabbed him by the arm and yanked him back a little. "You're really sure you're okay with her ex here?"

Tristan's jaw clenched determinedly. "Not in a million years."

- & -

Lorelai leaned back against the counter in her kitchen and eyed Christopher contemplatively. He glanced at her, smirked and then took a sip of his soda. She rolled her eyes and asked, "So are you going to tell me how you paid for the car?"

He shrugged and leaned against the counter next to her. "Knocked over a couple of banks. If anyone asks, my name is Juan."

"Christopher," she warned impatiently.

"Lorelai," he mimicked, still smirking. When she merely raised an eyebrow and folded her arms over her chest, he sighed, "I thought we already discussed this. You let me buy her the car even though technically I don't have to ask you if I can buy my daughter a car for her birthday. But you agreed."

"I never agreed to not pester you about where you got the cash."

"It's legit if that's what you're worried about," he scoffed, placing the can on the counter. "The car's paid for and Rory's happy. Ecstatic even. Let's leave it at that."

_For now_, Lorelai thought to herself. _But one way or another I'm gonna find out_.

The back door opened and Luke entered, carrying two big bags of ice. "Alright, the ice is here," he announced as he glanced at Lorelai and then at Christopher, eyes narrowing a bit. "Hey Chris."

"Hey Luke," Christopher replied pleasantly, taking one bag of ice out of the other man's hand. "What did you do? Break a polar ice cap?"

"Something like that," Luke answered and Lorelai handed him a soda, suddenly feeling claustrophobic. _Maybe inviting Luke was a mistake too_, she thought as she glanced at the two men in her life. _What the hell is wrong with me? _"There's a car with a big red bow in the backyard, if you're not aware."

"Yeah," she answered, smiling a little. "Chris bought it for the birthday girl."

"Ah. It's a KIA Rio, right? Good car. Dual front airbags, an energy-absorbing steering column, front and rear crumple zones and side-impact door beams," he prattled off. Lorelai and Christopher stared at him. Luke shrugged and glanced in on the festivities in the living room. "Is that Dean?"

Christopher nodded as Luke moved closer, squinting his eyes. "Lor invited him."

"Why would you do something like that?" Luke asked disbelievingly. Lorelai opened her mouth to say something and closed it again. "Rory looks…worried. Standing with her ex and current boyfriend in the same room on her birthday with all of Stars Hollow watching, that's gotta be torture."

Lorelai brought her can to her mouth to hide her frown, glancing at Christopher and Luke, standing on either side of her. _I feel her pain_, she thought dryly and took a long sip of soda.


	43. Chapter 43: And I'll Cry If I Want To

Chapter 43: …And I'll Cry If I Want To

"Tristan," Christopher Hayden greeted him, handing him a glass of punch as he clamped his other hand on Tristan's shoulder, in a gesture he knew meant he was about to impart something very wise. Or issue a severe yet subtle warning.

"Sir," Tristan replied, his manners impeccable, as he straightened up from his slouched position against the wall in the far corner of the living room where he could watch Rory perfectly while she engaged in conversation with her guests. Especially one guest in particular that he absolutely loathed, Dean. He turned his head to regard Rory's father. Christopher, he knew, wasn't as unhappy about his relationship with Rory as Lorelai was but still, Tristan remained wary of him ever since they had caught him mauling their daughter in her bedroom a couple of weeks ago. "How are you?"

"Can't complain. You?"

Unbidden, his gaze fluttered to Rory and one corner of his mouth curved. "Good."

Christopher patted his shoulder. "She's a very pretty girl. Got lucky and inherited Lor's genes." Tristan caught the wistfulness in his voice and didn't know what to say to that but added it to the file in his mind he had labeled 'Rory's parents; what the hell are they?' and then simply nodded. "And for reasons that her mother doesn't understand yet, she's involved with you."

"Reasons that both Rory and I are aware of," he answered boldly, meeting Christopher's gaze and then added, politely, "Sir."

"The name's Chris. You've used it before," he answered, a hint of impatience entering his voice and it made Tristan think that Mr. Hayden wasn't as laid back as everyone wanted to believe. The man's gaze was level but there was obvious fire behind it. "It wasn't long ago that I was eighteen, DuGrey. Rory's my daughter and when I was your age, I didn't know quite what that meant. I do now."

To lighten the mood, Tristan shot him a grin. "I'll consider myself forewarned, Chris."

The older man chuckled and nodded his head in approval. "Smarter than anyone gives you credit for. Good thing too because I would have hated to dump your mutilated body in a ditch somewhere."

Tristan touched the tip of his tongue to his teeth. "Lucky me."

"Don't you forget it," he said before giving him a parting pat on the shoulder.

Once he was gone, Joe showed up behind him and raised an eyebrow. "What was that about?"

"Oh, he was just threatening to cut off my balls if I ever did anything to hurt Rory," Tristan replied with a shrug. "A good man."

"The mom wishes slow, horrible death upon you and the dad would willingly oblige her," his best friend recapped leaning against the wall, "and most of the time, Rory doesn't even really like you. So why put up with it?"

"I'm thinking she'll be amazing in bed."

Joe laughed and shook his head. "I hope she knows you're an asshole."

"Yeah, she knows."

She turned then, from across the room and caught his eye, smiling shyly before turning back to talk to Dean. Joe nudged him with his shoulder as the muscles in Tristan's jaw tightened. "They're just talking, man."

"They have a lot of catching up to do," he agreed bitterly. "I bet Lorelai is loving this."

"Actually," Joe informed him. "When I was talking to her earlier, she seemed guilty."

He snorted. "How can you be sure?"

"Because she said, 'I feel so guilty about this'."

Unwilling to bend, Tristan crossed his arms over his chest. "Yeah, well she should have thought about that before she invited Frankenstein. Look at her, man." He hated that he was very close to sounding like a whining child. "She hasn't left his fucking side. And I'm her boyfriend." Flashbacks from Madeline's party two years ago were haunting him. _God_, he thought disgustedly, _nothing's changed_.

"Well, she was at your side until you threatened to choke him until he bled from his eyes and ears. Lovely image, by the way."

"I thought so." He watched as Dean bent his head and whispered something to Rory, causing her to frown and glance over at him before following the prick into the kitchen. Tristan stiffened and started to follow them, not caring that everyone in the room was starring at him, gauging his reaction.

Joe grabbed his arm before he got too far; issuing a warning, "Don't do anything stupid, man."

- & -

"I feel like I should be apologizing," Rory said as Dean put on his jacket.

He smiled and shook his head. "Don't worry about it. It's my fault, really. I should have known that coming here would put you in a tough position. You shouldn't have that on your birthday."

"Thanks," she answered with a small smile. "For coming and risking your body parts."

He snickered. "Please, I can take him."

He leaned down to kiss her cheek and then left through the backdoor. Rory closed the door behind him and then pulled open the fridge to get a can of soda, hoping to return to the party and not feel like she was some sort of plotline in a teenage drama. Tristan was leaning against the counter, arms folded and a bemused smile on his lips when she turned around.

"Dean's gone."

"Not as dumb as he looks," he replied scathingly.

"Don't do that, Tristan," she answered with a sigh as she popped open the can of soda. He simply stared at her and she elaborated. "There's no reason for you to jump to any conclusions."

"Conclusions?" he asked his voice even, although there was anger in his eyes. "What the hell am I supposed to think when my girlfriend spends her entire birthday party with her ex-boyfriend?"

Rory shook her head and took a step closer. "Tristan, you were ready to start a fight with him. I was trying to keep the peace."

"By sticking to him like glue?" he asked, disbelief etched over his features as he straightened up and stepped closer. "Great tactic, Ror. That made everything _so_ much better."

She rubbed her temples in frustration. She knew he was sort of right. The entire town seemed to be interested in the drama unfolding, on pins and needles waiting for either boy to throw the first punch and Dean had jokingly mentioned that he hated being so popular. Tristan, on the other hand, had the support of Joe, Paris, Madeline, Louise and by extension Jess. She was just trying to make Dean comfortable and show everyone that it wasn't a big deal that he was there.

But in retrospect? Not her best idea.

"Tristan, Dean is my friend. What was I supposed to do? Throw him out? Besides, you said that you were okay with him being here."

"I lied."

"What?"

"I lied," he replied with a shrug. "It wasn't okay with me but you wanted the asshole here so I said I didn't mind. If I had known you wanted to get cozy with him, I would have left long ago."

She threw her hand in the air, frustrated. "Tristan, that's not what I was -"

"Well, that's what you did," he cut her off, harshly. Then in agitation he flung his arm around and pointed to the living room where people were still gathered, probably straining to hear their conversation while pretending to party. "Everyone in that room saw it. Oh they all know which boy their princess prefers now."

"I'm _with_ you, Tristan!" she answered, her own anger escalating now that he was trying to make a big deal out of something that she hadn't even given a second thought to. Apparently, she was being too secretive about what she felt.

"Yeah well you could've fooled me, Rory. I bet your mother's just cackling with glee," he retorted. "See Rory? Dean is so much better for you. He's such a good boy. He won't pressure you for -"

It was Rory's turn to cut him off. "Don't you dare finish that sentence."

"Truth hurts, does it _Mary_?"

Her fists clenched at her side and she deliberately uncurled them and took two deep calming breaths. "Tristan, I'm going to go and enjoy what's left of my birthday. I'd really like it if you'd join me. As soon as you're done being an asshole."

She pushed past him as her cheeks grew hot, signaling oncoming tears. _Oh yeah_, she thought as she plastered a fake smile on her face when she entered the living room. _Best birthday ever_.

- & -

"You did something stupid, didn't you?"

Tristan grabbed the porch tightly until his knuckles turned white as Paris approached him from behind. The party was dying down slowly, most of the townspeople had gone home and some stayed back to help clean up. "Yeah, a little bit."

"Why?" He laughed resentfully and shrugged. Paris leaned against the railing and gave him his jacket. "I get that you're mad at her."

"Mad is too light a word, Par," he replied, as he shrugged into it.

"Extremely pissed off?"

"Better."

"But it's her birthday. And she really didn't do anything wrong," she said running a hand through her hair. "They were just talking and apparently, they're trying to be friends."

"She loved him for two years."

"Note the use of past tense," the blonde remarked and laid a hand on her shoulder. "DuGrey, you were friends with Mirabelle after you two broke up, weren't you? What if she was here right now and you hung out with her, you'd expect Rory to trust you that it was over with her and you two were just friends, right?"

Because it was true and logical, Tristan refused to acknowledge it. "That was different."

"Bullshit." Paris's conviction surprised him as she straightened up. "You're being an idiot, Tristan. It's sickeningly clear to everyone that she's into you. So she was in love with this other guy, two years ago and she picked him over you. You're really going to let that get in the way?"

"That's not -"

"She's with you now," Paris said, ignoring him, her expression stern. "And from the looks of it, she plans on staying with you for reasons that are beyond my comprehension. So let that be enough."

Tristan smirked. "When did you become such an expert on relationships?"

"It's not rocket science," she retorted and tugged on his sleeve. "Can we please go inside now? It's warmer."

At the door, Joe came out with Madeline and Louise on each arm and grin on his face. "DuGrey, I am being abducted. If I'm not back, don't come looking for me."

Giggling, the girls led him to Louise's car. Jess and Paris left hand in hand, shortly after and when Tristan stepped into the house, it was empty except for Rory's parents who were having an argument about where Christopher was spending the night.

"I don't know why you want to pay for a room at the Inn when I'm offering you this very comfy sofa?"

"Because the comfy sofa is currently lost under streamers and balloons. And I think Michel spilled some punch on the cushion and turned it around," Christopher explained. "Look, Lor, it's not a big deal."

"Okay," she answered and spotted Tristan. She smiled cheerily. "Hey Tristan. Rory's in her room. Can you tell her that I'm going to get Chris settled at the Inn?"

"Sure." As he turned to leave, she called out to him again and he turned. "Yes?"

"Rory and I," she paused and glanced furtively at Christopher who just smiled encouragingly. "We have this ritual, movie night."

"She's told me," he said, not understanding where she was going with it.

"Well, yeah, we usually do it on Fridays but since we have Friday night dinners, yeah we have a lot of rituals, which all seem to fall on Friday," she started to ramble and Christopher cleared his throat, amused. "Right, so this Friday my parents are out of town. So I'd like it if you'll come to movie night. On Friday. With us. Rory and me."

He nodded, unsure of what to make of the invitation. "Alright."

As the parents left, he wandered back to Rory's room. She was sitting on her bed, staring at her hands when he knocked on the door. "If I promise not to be an asshole, can I come in?" She looked up startled at his voice and then nodded. He sat down beside her and looked around her room. "Well, that was some party. Didn't know Stars Hollow could get down like that."

She glanced up at him but didn't say anything, her mouth a straight line. They sat in silence as he tried to think of something to say. But before he could string together a sentence, she spoke first. "I broke up with Dean because I wasn't in love with him anymore."

Tristan sighed. "I know."

"Do you? Because you seem to have it in your head that I'm not over him."

He lifted his shoulders in a shrug and wondered why he was struggling for words. "I know but Rory, I saw you with him and I just…"

"Got jealous?" she supplied and he winced, he hated hearing it out loud. She started laughing a little and he looked at her oddly. "Tristan, do I really need to remind you what we've been doing the last couple of days? I mean it's been amazing. And it's not just the sex thing but it's…"

"Real," he finished for her with a smile and reached for her hand. "It's great."

She touched the side of his face. "Yeah, it really is."

He leaned in to brush his lips against hers and he pulled back smiling. "Lane helped me smuggle the rest of your present inside. She put it in your closet."

"The first edition of _Pride & Prejudice_ wasn't enough?"

"Not for you."

Rory smiled curiously as she got off the bed to find her present. She opened the cupboard and pulled out a wicker basket, covered in blue cellophane paper and a bright blue bow on the handle. She raised an eyebrow at him as she turned. "Did you decorate this yourself?"

He rolled his eyes. "What do you think?"

She laughed and placed the basket on her bed. "Right, sorry. But it's still very pretty and it's the thought that counts. So ten brownie points."

"I'm racking those up," he commented with a wry grin. "Where's _my_ reward."

She leaned down and kissed him, hard. "There you go. Now I get to open my gift." She attacked the cellophane paper and pulled it away, smiling brightly at the golden box in the middle. "Godiva!" She touched the box almost reverently and then gasped when she saw what was next. "Coffee! This is too much."

Amused, Tristan leaned back on his elbows. "I should have just skipped everything else and given you a gift certificate to Starbucks."

"There's more? You're spoiling me, aren't you?"

"That was the general idea, yeah." He watched as she dug under the rest of the tissue paper and pulled out a box of vanilla scented candles and massage oil. She raised her eyebrows at him before her gaze fell on another familiar box, which was bigger and considerably more _exciting_. For him at least. Rory seemed to be turning a rather interesting shade of red. "There's an amusing story that goes with that."

Rory stared at the pink and white box and read the logo: _Victoria's Secret_. "Oh, let's hear this one." Tristan laughed and told her about his trip to the mall, still undecided about what he was going to get her. "And a lingerie store came to mind?"

"Well, the look on your face when you saw I got you something _from_ a lingerie store. Yeah, something like that. Anyway, I quickly realized that as much as I enjoy flipping through the catalogue of _Victoria's Secret_? I really don't like being there."

"I can picture it." Reluctantly, a corner of her mouth curved. Sighing, almost resignedly, she cautiously opened the box and let out a breath. Reaching in, she fingered the soft silky, baby blue robe smiled. "It's very pretty. I'm never showing my mother this in a million years and if she finds it I will have no knowledge of it whatsoever but thank you. I love it. All of it."

He kissed her hand and hitched his head to the basket. "There's one more thing."

"Tristan," she said softly, smiling as she picked up the small golden box that lay at the bottom. "What are you doing to me?"

"Well, this is the best part of the present," he answered. She opened the box and laughed a little even though there was a slight hitch in her voice. She held up his class ring and ran her finger over the deep blue stone in the center while she twisted the thin gold chain with her other hand. "I want you to have it."

"Help me put it on?" She held up her hair as he clasped it behind her neck and then he bent his head to place soft kisses on her shoulder. She sighed and leaned against him as his lips brushed over the column of her neck. "I love it."

"Happy birthday, Ror," he whispered before sealing his lips over hers.


	44. Chapter 44: Movie Night

Chapter 44: Movie Night

"Get out of town!" Lorelai exclaimed, hands on hips. "Tristan hasn't seen _Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory_?"

"Gene Wilder makes him…antsy," Rory explained as she emptied potato chips into a plastic bowl.

Her mother shook her head and closed her eyes as if she'd been wounded. "Oh Rory, I'm beginning to think it's a good thing you're with him now. The boy needs serious fixing."

Rory cocked her head to the side and clipped her hair into a ponytail, her mouth curving into a small smile, thinking about the look on Tristan's face a couple of nights ago when she had dragged the zipper of his pants down and finally returned the favor. She blushed and before she could stop herself, she said, "I don't know Mom, I kinda like him broken."

Lorelai looked at her daughter with a tight smile and Rory knew that she knew exactly what thoughts were running through her head. "So um, what are we going to order? Are you sure Tristan's ever heard of _pizza_?"

"Oh you're a real riot, Mother," Rory retorted, glad that Lorelai's look of concern was brief and fleeting. "And for your information, Tristan is bringing the food."

She smiled approvingly. "I have taught you well."

Rory's expression became serious as she touched her mother's shoulder. "If I haven't said this before, I'm really, really happy that you invited him. I know the idea doesn't thrill either one of you and knowing that you're doing it for me…I love you for it, Mom. I know if you can just _see_ him the way I do…"

"Well, let's hope I don't see him _exactly_ the way you do."

Rory shuddered and retracted her hand from Lorelai's shoulder. "Ew, Mom, gross. What is with you and my boyfriends? First Tristan thinks you're hot and then you're…God, _ew_."

"Tristan thinks I'm hot?" Lorelai blinked. "When did he say this?"

"It was his backhanded way of saying I'm hot but that's so not the point."

Lorelai grinned and put her hand on Rory's cheek. "I just want you happy, honey."

The doorbell rang and Lorelai went to the bathroom while Rory went to greet her boyfriend. He was wearing a pair of black jeans and a crisp white shirt underneath his jacket. His hair was tousled and the cold made his face red, his eyes crinkling around the edges as he smiled. She shivered and was pretty sure it wasn't because the air was cold. Tristan held up three boxes. "Pizza."

Rory leaned against the doorjamb. "How much do I owe you?"

He pretended to ponder as he stepped closer, balancing the boxes with one hand while he slipped his free arm around her waist. "Well, a kiss for now. Tongue please; I believe I've earned a tip."

She chuckled as she brushed her lips over his and pulled away as he frowned, disappointed. "Remember what I said: we have to be good. You promised."

"I promised to be on my best behavior," he agreed and then his lips curved devilishly. "But that's not all that good."

"Tristan," she said, putting her hand on his shoulder to keep him at bay.

"And, if I remember correctly," he continued, ignoring her plea. "You didn't mind so much this morning or last night." He stopped to nibble on her earlobe. "Or Tuesday afternoon, was it? When we were christening your new car?"

"Wednesday," she answered softly as his lips trailed down her neck, closing her eyes and forgetting they were still standing in the foyer. "We were in your car on Tuesday."

"Oh, right," he replied as he nibbled her collarbone. "Silly me."

"Oh-_kay_," Lorelai said as she stepped in, grabbed the pizzas out of Tristan's hand and Rory jumped away from him. "I'm going to pretend I didn't hear any of that. Hey Tristan! How are you?"

"I'm good, Lorelai. You?" he answered, smiling disarmingly.

"Just peachy." She turned and headed back to the kitchen, ordering them to start the movie while she brought everything out.

Rory, still red, turned away from Tristan and headed towards the living room, calling over her shoulder. "Keep your hands to yourself, DuGrey."

- & -

He blinked and his jaw set determinedly as he cocked his head to the side to get a view of her behind in simple gray sweats as she stalked away. Straightening, he followed and wrapped an arm around her shoulder. "Where's the fun in that?"

Tristan stretched an arm behind the back of the sofa, reluctantly returning his gaze to the TV in front of him. Lorelai had announced that it was "Eighties Night" and while Elisabeth Shue was certainly easy on the eyes, _Adventures in Baby-sitting_ was not exactly what he considered quality film. Lorelai, on the other hand, was enjoying it immensely: cackling with glee and mocking everything and anything she deemed ridiculous.

The corners of his mouth tugged upwards at her erratic gestures. Even though he was still wary of the elder Gilmore, Tristan had to admit that she was quite entertaining…in a quirky way. She was full of life and anyone could see how much of that life was devoted to Rory and how much she loved her. And that only made him like her more. However, to his extreme discomfort, she sort of understood him as well. Infinitely better than her daughter did. It made sense, after all, they had similar backgrounds and even though Lorelai chose to run from it rather than embrace it as he had, he knew a kindred spirit when he was in the company of one.

He _hated_ it.

It didn't help that every time he tried to touch Rory – even in the simplest of ways – she was watching them like a disapproving mother-hen. This, in turn, had Rory keeping her distance from him by placing her mother between them, not-so-subtly moving out of his embrace even when Lorelai wasn't looking and expertly changing the subject when he complimented her. It pissed him off.

While the Gilmore girls were definitely interesting, they were, in his opinion living in their own little fantasy world if they thought he was going to slip into the role of 'the perfect boyfriend'. Lorelai was just going to have to deal with the fact that he wouldn't be scared off by an overprotective mother. Hell that only made him more determined. A devilish smile touched his lips as he glanced at Rory who had just come back from the kitchen with a can of soda; he wasn't Dean fucking Forester and it would be best if she remembered that.

When she sat down on the sofa – at the other end – he reached for her hand and tugged her closer. She shook her head and motioned towards her mother, who was sitting in front of the coffee table mere feet away, eyes glued to the TV.

'She's not looking,' he mouthed to her as he pulled her to him. She bit her bottom lip, looking torn before finally giving up and curling against him, her legs tucked neatly under her. He smiled innocently and let his arm fall to her side as she rested her head on his shoulder. He kissed the top of her head and whispered, "Much better."

She sighed against him and draped her arm around his waist. "I agree."

"Ooh, this is the best part," Lorelai said and they turned their attention to the screen.

Elisabeth Shue was holding up a knife to a gangster's face. "_Don't fuck with the babysitter_."

Lorelai laughed again, clapping her hands together. "Classic."

"She always says that," Rory informed him with a grin.

"Because it's always funny," Lorelai returned as she turned around, to throw popcorn at her daughter. She paused briefly, surprise flickering over her face to see Rory cuddled up next to Tristan and he could tell she was telling herself to not make too much of it.

While Lorelai's obvious disdain annoyed him, it made Rory nervous and she started to pull away from him as Lorelai turned back to the screen. _Uh-uh_, he thought as he tightened his grip on her, clamping a hand on her leg. _You're not going anywhere, Gilmore_. She squirmed a bit, paused and then sighed before giving in and returning her head to his shoulder and pulling the baby blue woolen afghan up to her stomach. He smirked maliciously. _That's okay, baby. Get comfortable for now. _

He returned his attention back to the screen, amusing himself with some of the wacky hi-jinks and tried to remain nonchalant. He let minutes pass by, content to sit there with her cuddled up next to him, laughing with her mother and passing commentary on the hair, fashion and quips. _It must be nice for her, _he thought as mother and daughter giggled over what was obviously a private joke. _Just hanging out with mom. Weird concept._

As the movie progressed, his hand innocently grazed her thigh underneath the afghan, so that she could barely feel it and came to a stop on her hip. Oblivious, Rory watched the movie, snuggling closer as he tightened his grip. With his fingers, he drew random patterns on her thigh, up and down. Up and down. She looked at him with a curious smile and hitched her head in the direction of the TV. "You're missing the good parts," she whispered.

He smiled at her, eyes still on hers and continued to trace patterns before, hooking his fingers in the waistband of her sweats and tugging. "No, I'm not."

Her eyes widened and she glanced down at his hand, watching as he caressed the soft, sensitive skin. "Stop it," she said urgently. "Tristan."

He brought a finger to his lips and looked at Lorelai meaningfully. "Be quiet."

She bit her bottom lip and waited, breathing labored from apprehension. Smirking, he boldly delved his fingers deeper, cupping her intimately against the fabric of her panties. God, she was already hot and damp. Her head fell back and she struggled to keep a moan from escaping.

"What are you doing?" she hissed as his fingers continued their assault on her.

"I thought that much was obvious."

"Tristan," she complained even though the last syllable of his name came out in a breathy whisper.

"Hey you two, shush already," Lorelai admonished without turning around.

Rory tried to struggle free but he held her in place, circling her upper arm with his free hand. "Don't."

He brought his lips to her ear and nipped on her earlobe with his teeth as he whispered softly, petulantly, "But you like it."

To prove it, he brushed his thumb over a particularly sensitive spot and she jerked before letting her head fall back against him. He could feel the tension seep out of her and smiled in victory as she became pliant and surrendered under his ministrations.

Instinctively, Rory shifted and spread her legs to give him better access. Her eyes closed and her face turned into his shoulder as he let his fingers slide into her panties and found her wet and ready. She bit her bottom lip to keep from gasping and he smiled, as he continued to tease her. She arched to his touch and bucked against his hand, ever so slightly, letting out a soft whimper when he obliged her. Her breathing was labored and he watched longingly at the steady rise and fall of her breasts under the material of her T-shirt. Her nipples strained against the fabric and his other hand, which was resting innocently on his knee, itched to touch her, to slip under her shirt and feel her perfect breasts against his palm.

Desperately, Tristan wished that Lorelai wasn't in the room and that he could forget that he was touching Rory to prove something. He just wanted it to be the two of them so he could push her back on the couch, get into a more comfortable position and just sink his body into hers. His imagination kicked in and took over and he saw her hot and slick against him, moving under him and freely moaning his name as he drove into her, right there in her own house on her mother's couch: no worries, no interruptions, no weird angles and no barriers. Just heat, skin, sweat and mindless pleasure driving them.

The sound of the Lorelai's laughter snapped him out of his fantasy and he willed himself to calm down and focus on the task, literally, at hand. There was plenty of time to indulge in his other fantasies involving Rory Gilmore later. Right now, he just had to fulfill this one.

Rory had buried her face completely in his shoulder and the knitted afghan was bunched tightly in her fingers and he continued to skim his fingers over her slick folds, feather-light touches that were meant to torment and make her strain for release. He bent his head and showered her neck with kisses, tasting her skin as he slid one finger inside her. She lifted her head from him, in shock and he closed his mouth over hers, drowning out her breathy gasp.

He purposely didn't deepen the kiss, even as she strained against him, bringing her hand to the back of his head, pulling him closer. He resisted and continued to kiss her softly; if Lorelai made any sudden movements, he needed to be quick and not lost in a torrid kiss. Rory was practically purring, the sexy sound reverberating through him as he quickened his pace and worked another finger inside her. This time, she broke the kiss and bit her bottom lip, burying her face in his neck and thrusting her hips to match the rhythm of his seeking fingers.

Again, he wished that they were alone so that he could properly see her come apart – her eyes lose focus and go blind with lust, hear her uninhibitedly moan his name as she came, so that when he was done, he could start all over again, making her come faster and harder until she...

His train of thought was derailed again as she started to nip her teeth against his neck before she stiffened, contracting around his fingers as she flooded against his hand.

Tristan waited for her to come back from the edge and then pulled out of her slowly, as she lifted her hazy blue gaze. He glanced at the screen; the movie seemed to be ending. Rory eased herself away from him, her eyes wide and her cheeks flush part from her climax and part from embarrassment. He smirked at her, not moving from his place to let her know he was completely comfortable with what had transpired and she should be too.

_And Then He Kissed Me _started to play again and Lorelai turned back to them, completely oblivious. "What'd'ya think, Tristan? Better than _The Karate Kid_?"

He gave the older Gilmore a smile as he kept his eyes on Rory, the smirk still firmly in place. "Way better. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to wash my hands." At Rory's horrified expression, he clarified as he stood up, "Popcorn, slippery stuff."

- & -

"Oh my God," Rory muttered as she stepped outside onto the porch, Tristan right behind her. She closed her eyes and hugged herself as he closed the door behind them. "Tell me that didn't just happen."

He came to stand beside her and leaned against the porch rail, grinning as he looked up at her astonished face. "Sorry, can't do that. You, my dearest Mary, just had a big O on the couch in your living room, watching _Adventures in Babysitting_ with your mother less than three feet away. Naughty girl."

Rory closed her eyes and pressed a hand to her temple. "God."

"Now, now," he chided as he touched her arm. The amusement was clear in his voice and it only made her even more embarrassed. "Don't take the Lord's name in vain."

"Why not? I'm going to hell anyway," she mumbled, burying her face with her hands. Sighing, she looked up at him and shook her head as if it would help her gather her thoughts. "How could I have let that happen? She was right there. Any second she could have turned and…"

"And you know what that tells me?" he said, taking both her hands, the smirk that was threatening to take over his lips belying the seriousness of his expression. "You have discovery fantasies."

She opened her mouth and then closed it again, unable to retort. His smirk finally appeared and she tried again but her protest came out pathetic, even to her own ears, "I do not have discovery fantasies."

"Please," he replied easily and brought her arms around his neck before slipping his around her waist to pull her closer. "I felt it, Ror. You came harder than ever before. The idea that you might get caught just makes you all hot and bothered. Hey, it even surprised me. But, whatever helps you sleep. I'll just plan a rendezvous for us in Headmaster Charleston's office tomorrow while you keep denying it."

"You're loving this aren't you?" she said accusingly, playing with the soft hair at the nape of his neck. "You seek pleasure from it. It must be a great boost for that ego of yours, right?"

"Well, it is a great story to share with the boys," he agreed with a grin. She gasped and smacked him upside the head. "Ow! I'm kidding, Rory. Look, it happened and Lorelai has no idea. Can't you just enjoy it? Otherwise, I went through all that trouble for nothing."

She snorted and let her hands slide down to rest on his chest, grasping at the lapels of his leather jacket. "Trouble, yeah right."

"Well, I have to admit, feeling you breathe against my neck as you came?" His voice was low and throaty, making her face flush as he leaned in and brushed his lips against hers. Instinctively, she pressed herself against him. "A total turn on."

Although she was blushing and her thoughts were already scattering, she managed to muster enough will power to take a step away from him, even as he craned his neck to keep their lips locked.

Rory kissed him back briefly, while her hand traveled under his jacket and over his shirt, to the buckle of his belt. Hooking her fingers into the waistband, she pulled him backwards and he followed her to the door while his hand came up to cradle her face. He tried to deepen the kiss but she broke contact. While one hand groped for the doorknob behind her, she let the other drop down the last few inches before cupping him through the material of his jeans. With a lascivious smile of own she opened the door behind her and stepped away from him and into her house. "Goodnight Tristan."

And then she closed the door.


	45. Chapter 45: Not So Innocent Anymore

**Disclaimer: **Not mine. The characters belong to Amy Sherman Palladino and the WB.

**Author's Note: **Just wanted to thank everyone who patiently waited for this update. I know it took long but real life has a bad habit of interfering with other activities. To everyone who asked: yes, I plan on seeing this story to the end, which is very far away. It might take me awhile to get the next chapters up but this fic will be finished.

**Dedication:** To the usual suspects.

**Chapter 45: Not So Innocent Anymore**

"And she didn't suspect a thing?" Lane exclaimed shocked as Rory explained what happened during movie night with Tristan in her bedroom the next day. Since Rory wasn't completely ready to talk about her sexual exploration with her mother, it was the next best thing to able to talk about it with her best friend. Even though Lane listened to the entire story with her eyes the size of saucers, her mouth forming a comical "O" and looking at Rory as if someone else had taken over her body. "I mean, I'm sure Tristan's good but she was less than three feet away!"

Rory blushed and buried her face in her hands. "I know! And _she_ has to know _something_! I can't believe I let it get so out of hand. But he just…and I just – God, Lane, it was incredible. He says I have discovery fantasies."

Lane snorted and then shook her head. "Obviously. I'm shocked and…jealous and are you really Rory Gilmore? Sweet, unassuming, virginal Rory Gilmore who up until a few months ago had only seen key parts of the male anatomy in a biology textbook?"

She giggled and curled up on her bed, not feeling guilty about her fall from such a stature. "I used to be."

"Wait until Stars Hollow gets a load of the new you."

Rory shook her head and unwound herself from her position and stretched. "No way. The people of Stars Hollow will never assume such things."

"Sweetie, they were at the party." Lane put a hand on her shoulder. "They saw the boy and while they're all a little on the nutty side, they're not stupid." When Rory worried her bottom lip with her teeth, Lane sighed and clarified. "Everyone knows that when a girl has a boy who looks the way Tristan does…well, she's not exactly going to just hold hands with him and peck him chastely on the cheek."

"Oh great," Rory stated and stood up. "Just what I need, more people knowing and disapproving about my love life."

"Sex life," Lane corrected with an angelic smile. "They disapprove of your _sex_ life."

"_So_ much better," she replied and tightened her ponytail and then sat down on the bed again, this time facing Lane. "Enough about me, how's it going with that Dave guy?"

Lane's eyes lit up even as she casually shrugged and let out an unenthusiastic, "Eh. He's not Korean, which we very well know spells doom in the Kim household. I hate my life."

"Well, miracles can happen. Any indication that he's attracted?"

A shy smile curved Lane's lips. "Well, he does sit with me during lunch but that's probably because I'm the only person he knows. And he does fumble when he speaks but he has a slightly, albeit sexy, lisp-y thing going on. I don't know…"

"Of course he likes you," Rory nodded and patted Lane on the back. "Who wouldn't?"

Lane smiled and hugged her. "Alright, I have to go. Mama thinks that I'm at Doose's buying groceries."

"Still mad about the Henry debacle?"

Lane nodded and sighed. "That'll teach me to lie to my mom about a guy who ended up being totally not worth it. At least Tristan is worth it."

Rory let out a small laugh. "Never tell him that."

"Alright, I'll see you later. Keep me updated." Lane gave her a hug and rushed out of the room as Lorelai came in and over her shoulder shouted, "Hi Lorelai! Bye Lorelai!"

"Where's the fire?" her mother asked as she sat down on the bed. Rory managed a smile and shrugged, still avoiding Lorelai's gaze. Though, she was getting better at not looking guilty every time her mother was near.

For her part, Lorelai was getting better at pretending not to notice.

"How was work?" Rory asked, deciding to move on to neutral topics before heading into murkier territory. "You didn't call once to complain about Michel."

"Michel was being unusually accommodating today. Which, is still the lowest level of accommodating that a normal human can be but still, it was progress." Lorelai sat down on the bed and reached over to tuck a stray strand of hair behind Rory's ear. "How was your day?"

"Good. Did some reading, laundry and watched an ABC Family original movie. Good times."

Lorelai nodded and an awkward silence followed. Rory bit her bottom lip to keep from asking about the night before; she didn't want to bring it up. Just thinking about it had made her blush and there was no way she'd be able to say anything without incriminating herself. "I'm going to Boston next weekend. Inn thing-y."

"Oh."

"Sookie and I will go for the thing-y on Saturday and then Sunday Christopher said that we'd hang out. Well not Sookie, she'll be coming back because she has some thing with Jackson. We'll have to take two cars, I guess. But anyway Chris and I will be hanging out. Next weekend. When I am in Boston."

Rory smiled. "I got that."

"So, you'll be okay?" Lorelai added unnecessarily. "I mean, I'll let Babette know you'll be alone. And of course, Luke might send care packages. You know how he is."

"Luke knows you're going?"

"I'll tell him. Everyone will know."

"You don't have to. I'll order." Rory stated, shaking her head. "Or I'll just go over."

"Or you can stay in Hartford, with Mom and Dad," Lorelai suggested suddenly, as if a light bulb went off over her head. "They'd love it."

Rory's eyes narrowed suspiciously at her mother, who smiled cheerfully as if she hadn't just suggested that her daughter spend two days in the childhood home she had lovingly named Hell. Suddenly, it made perfect sense. Rory gasped and pointed a finger at her mother. "You think I'm going to have sex with Tristan in this house while you're gone!"

Lorelai's eyes widened as Rory got off the bed. "The thought never crossed my mind. But apparently it crossed yours."

Rory shook her head, crossed her arms and ignored her mother's comments. "I thought last night was progress. I thought you were okay with him. With me and the whole thing with the -"

"Kid, one night of watching movies with him and eating pizza is not enough," Lorelai cut her off and stood up, gesturing with her arms. "He's still Tristan."

"And that automatically makes him the devil," Rory shot back.

Lorelai scoffed. "Should I remind you that not so long ago, _you_ thought he was the devil. And you may have yielded to that charm and smile but I've got a few years on you, babe, and I don't trust that kid for a second. Not with my life and not with my little girl."

"Oh my God!" Rory exclaimed, face red and unable to comprehend where her mother was coming from. "We're right back where we started. God, I can't believe I have to say this, to you of all people, but I'm _not_ a little girl. Can't you just trust me to make my decisions?"

"This isn't about trusting you, Rory. Don't think for one second I didn't pick up on stuff last night," Lorelai informed her and Rory felt the bottom of her stomach give out. "The two of you can't keep your hands off each other and if it wasn't for me being within ear shot of both of you…God, I don't even want to think about it. So no, I don't trust either one of you, him more so and I don't blame you either, kid, but you're not thinking rationally. So one of us has to. I'm just doing my job, babe. And guys like Tristan don't make it easy."

Rory was silent for a minute, taking it all in. She understood her mother, tried to imagine what she would do if she were in Lorelai's place. The anger dissipated, leaving mild frustration in its place so Rory shook her head and let out a breath. There was no use fighting in circles. "I trust him."

"I know," Lorelai answered softly, taking the peace offering, and touched her daughter's elbow. "I want to trust him."

Rory looked at her hopefully. "So you're opinion of him didn't improve even a little?"

Lorelai waited a beat, as if trying to choose the right words. "He's very charming. Well-dressed. Funny, I suppose. And polite and he didn't hog the pizza or drink all the soda. He excused himself to go to the bathroom and he's -"

"Mom."

"He likes you a lot. That's obvious."

Rory smiled, blushed a little as she looked down at her hands. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." Lorelai swung an arm around Rory's shoulder. "And I figure any guy who likes someone as wonderful as you, can't be all that bad. Besides, he reminds me of someone I once knew."

"Dad, at that age?" Rory asked knowingly.

"No." Lorelai shook her head. "Me."

& -

"So, your mom seems to leave you alone in this house quite a bit recently," Tristan observed suddenly, a week later (the weekend that Lorelai was in Boston) he and Rory sat on her bed, studying for an upcoming English exam. Rory faced him, leaning against the headboard, legs stretched out in front of her. Periodically, Tristan would massage the sole with his free hand in a gesture that was terribly intimate and relaxing at the same time. "You'd think with me around, she'd stick to you like glue."

"Arrogant about your influence, are you?" Rory raised an eyebrow; he shrugged and wiggled his suggestively from his place at the foot of the bed. She sighed and scratched at the corner of her textbook resting on her lap. "She's spending time with Dad after the conference."

"You don't sound so pleased."

She tilted her head back against the wall behind her. "I don't know. I mean, I know it would be great if they could just get their stuff together and you know, be together. But it's complicated. I don't -"

"Want to get your hopes up because you fear they'll just disappoint you again?" he finished for her, uncharacteristically insightful.

"Yeah." She met his gaze, held it, surprised.

He stretched his legs across her bed and shrugged. "Yeah, well, you're talking to a guy who knows all about that. Hell, I wrote the book."

It was a rare moment; their conversations didn't usually take a very serious turn. When they did, one or both of them, quickly led the subject back to more neutral topics. It was in these moments she felt like she understood Tristan better than ever.

"Any pointers?"

His lips curved in a half-grin. "You just have to remember that they're human and they make mistakes."

"Gosh, growing up is hard."

"Who said anything about growing up?" He grinned again and shut his textbook.

She laughed and relaxed her shoulders, done with her homework as well. "For a moment there I wished my mother was here so she could hear you insightful and mature comments and then poof! You're Tristan again."

"Well, naturally." With a devilish grin, he grabbed her ankles and tugged her so that she was lying on the bed as he wrapped her legs around his waist and came to settle between her legs. Sighing at the wonderful sensation of his weight, the hard, taunt line of his body, against her, she sunk deeper into her mattress and let her arms twine around him. "So, you never told me if you talked to her about movie night Friday."

She had felt weird about it and was still trying to comprehend her actions – well his actions and her utter lack of caution – that night to bring it up again. "We did talk. I don't think she realized what happened but she had her suspicions. We're not exactly discreet." She paused to swat him as he chuckled against the skin of her neck. "While she had a good time and her impression of you has increased incrementally, she still doesn't trust us."

"Such a shame," he murmured and scraped his teeth lightly against her collarbone. "You have such a trustworthy face."

"And you're doing everything in your power to make me guilty of whatever it is my mother thinks goes on between us so that my credibility is shot, aren't you?" She played with his hair and then brought her hands to the side of his face to lift it up.

"Damn, you catch on quickly." He bent his head again and smothered her laugh with his lips. She bit his lower lip and relished in the low sound that tore from his lips and then deepened the kiss, letting her hands roam freely under his shirt and over his back. He groaned against her and then pulled away, laughing huskily. "And you're not doing anything to make my corruption of you any easier, right?"

She pouted her lips slightly and widened her eyes. "I'm as innocent as a lamb."

Laughing incredulously, he fisted his hands in her hair and kissed the corner of her mouth, thrusting his hips lightly against hers and causing her to moan his name. "Oh yeah. Very innocent."

As always, their kissing became less teasing and more and more frantic, hands everywhere, clothing being pushed out of the way and discarded, he had pulled the quilt covering her bed over them and his teeth and lips were heating and arousing so that she forgot they were on her bed in the middle of the afternoon.

"Tristan, we can't," she bit back on a moan as a finger traced down her breast. "Someone could walk in…"

"Who?" he asked, kissing her neck. "Nobody's going to walk in."

"Luke might send me something for lunch," she managed to get out; even as her fingers twisted in his hair and she brought his mouth down on hers again. After they broke apart, she put a hand on his naked chest to push him away. "Babette lives next door. The door is always unlocked."

He took both her wrists in his and brought them above her head and grinned down at her. "Well, I guess this is the best time as any to explore those discovery fantasies."

At the suggestive look in his eyes, anxiety and lust curled through her and she meekly tried to break free and protest. "Tristan."

"Shh," he whispered, trailing his lips across her nipple. "Someone might hear you." He paused and swirled his tongue around the pebbled skin. "Unless, of course, that's what turns you on. Otherwise you gotta keep the screaming to a minimum."

Even with the fire spreading through her, she had to roll her eyes at his arrogance. "You can't make me scream, Tristan."

He lifted his gaze to lock with hers and raised an eyebrow. "That sounds like a challenge."

She tugged at her bound wrists again but he held them together firmly. "C'mon, we should get dressed."

"No, I don't think I will," he replied and made himself comfortable. "Bet I can make you scream, Mary."

"What?"

"I bet I can make you scream," he repeated and kissed the side of her face. "I'm going to drive you to the edge so hard, you'll scream my name as you come."

She shuddered at his words and the promise behind them. Despite herself, she felt her body and her curious mind reacting to him as her skin tingled in anticipation. "What are the stakes?"

Pleased with her response, he kissed her again. "When I win, you have to show up at Brett Thompson's upcoming Halloween party – masquerade party – wearing whatever I choose for you."

She looked up at him dubiously, dragging her lower lip between her teeth. "And if you lose?"

"You can pick out my costume," he returned easily. "But I don't lose."

Her mind was faintly yelling at her that it was a bad idea. If she lost, Tristan would subject her to something appropriately skimpy and revealing for the party. But his hands were on her and her body was reacting to his ministrations, quickly clouding all better judgment. Without really willing it, she heard herself say, "Deal."

She didn't have to see him to know he was smiling triumphantly against her lips. He pulled away and nodded. "Hang on, Rory Gilmore."

"Oh please," she replied with one last attempt to sound casual while her body hummed with arousal and anticipation.

He started to kiss her neck, her collarbone, down the valley between her breasts, to her bellybutton and then he looked up at her and with a devilish smirk, disappeared under the quilt and between her legs.


	46. Chapter 46: Trick or Treat?

**Chapter 46: Trick or Treat? **

"Remind me again what we're doing here?" Brett Thompson asked Tristan a couple of days later as he stood in front of a hideously trite gorilla mask.

"We're killing two birds with one stone, Thompson," Tristan answered, sifting through the various garments on the circular rack. Finding nothing satisfactory, he turned to his friend. "We're making you cool and we're searching for costumes to wear to your soiree – which, thanks to me, will be the party of the year. Well, except for my birthday bash at the start of the year, of course."

"Of course," Brett mumbled and stared dubiously at the mask. "Still, it'll be hard to find a costume that won't make me look ridiculous."

"Point taken." Tristan grinned and slapped Brett on the back. "Look man, I've got your back. When I am through with you and once I have moved on from the hallowed halls of Chilton, you will quietly but assuredly assume my place in the social foray, if you will. Women will hound you and men will envy you. It'll be _great_."

Brett shook his head, as if to clear it from a disturbing mental image and managed a smile. "So what do you think? Pirate? Or is that too corny? Vampire? Um…doctor?"

Tristan sighed. "No, no and what are you, five?"

"Well, what will you wear to the party?" Brett huffed, a little annoyed.

"I don't know, I am not thinking about my costume right now," he answered, with a small smirk playing on his lips. "I'm finding something for you. And Rory."

"You're picking out Rory's costume?" Tristan nodded and his smirk widened. "And she's letting you. Damn, does she not know you?"

"Well, let's just say, she's met her match," he answered deliberately vague, knowing Rory would hate it if he went into details. Besides, the idea of keeping their bet a secret gave him an odd sort of thrill. "Don't look so scared for her, Brett. I know what I am doing. She's my girlfriend, for Chrissake."

Brett chuckled and then furrowed his brows. "Is that Louise Grant?"

Tristan followed his line of sight and recognized the blonde. "It is and it looks like she's looking for a costume. See, I told you people would take you seriously. Hey Grant!"

Louise looked up and then walked on over to the boys, smiling like a Cheshire as she did. "DuGrey. Thompson."

"Shopping for a costume?" Brett asked hopefully; getting Louise to come to a party while not a feat would definitely boost his popularity level.

"That is what one would do when one is in a store like this, Thompson," Louise answered dryly. She turned to Tristan and smiled brightly. "Did you find anything yet?"

"No such luck," he answered with a shake of his head and then grinned, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. "Although, I did see an I Dream of Jeannie costume over there with your name written all over it, Grant."

She sidled up next to him and laughed, flirtatiously. "You'd love that wouldn't you, DuGrey? Having your every wish come true?"

He slung an arm around her shoulder and gave her a knowing look; flirting with Louise was as natural as breathing and completely harmless. "Depends on who's doing the granting."

"You two are making me sick," Brett interrupted, rolling his eyes. He dropped the plastic Batman cowl back into the bin near by and sighed. "There is nothing here."

"Amateurs," Louise responded, grabbing both of them by the arm and tugging them away. "First I have to pick up costumes for Maddie and Paris and then I'm going to show you losers how to really shop, with class and sophistication. Just as soon as I check out this Jeannie costume."

The guys followed the blonde, lagging behind her. Tristan chuckled and added, "In that case, you can help me pick something out for Rory too."

Louise stopped and whirled to face him. "You're picking out Rory's costume?"

Tristan adopted an innocent expression and lifted a careless shoulder. "She asked me to. There was a…deal."

"And Lorelai is okay with whatever you choose for her?"

"I hadn't thought about that," Tristan admitted slowly. "Well then…"

Louise shook her head and hooked her arm under Tristan's. "What would you do without me, DuGrey?"

& -

"Louise, I don't know what I would do without you," Rory called from the bathroom in her friend's bedroom, as she adjusted the straps of her costume on her shoulder and ran a hand down the fire-engine red material. The red dress flowed down, flirting around her knees, the flimsy material twirling when ever she moved. Glancing up at her reflection in the mirror above the sink, she worried her bottom lip with her teeth, feeling very exposed as she tried to pull up the plunging V-neck to cover more skin.

Tristan had really stuck it to her this time and she cursed him again in her head.

She had known, from the minute he had won the bet, smiling smugly as she struggled to bring herself back from the mind-numbing orgasm, that he would make her wear something she was not entirely comfortable in.

She turned around and saw the reflection of the back of the dress. Or lack thereof. "Actually, I take that back. How could you let him pick this?"

Louise poked her head inside the bathroom and grinned cheekily. She sashayed inside and came to stand beside the brunette, adjusting the tube-top blouse of her Jeannie costume. "Believe me, what he had in mind was way more daring. This, I thought, was perfect in its irony. It covers more and besides, you have to think of it as power."

"How so?"

"Sex is power, darling," Louise stated with a wink. "After all, aren't you named after a mythological siren or something? You're supposed to make men go crazy, it's in the name!"

"Easy for you to say."

"Now, the dress will do most of the work, Rory. All you have to do is have the confidence. Repeat this in your head: I'm sexy and I know it." Rory laughed and helped Louise with her veil. "Tristan may have won whatever battle the two of you are fighting but the boy practically handed you all the power so you can win the war."

Rory grinned and adjusted the headband with pointy red devil horns on her head and grabbed the fake plastic scepter. "I like the way you think, Grant."

"Oh and just to give you a heads-up, I know what Tristan is wearing," she informed her, with a saucy grin. Rory looked at her curiously. "Let's just say, think Brad Pitt, _Interview with a Vampire_. Without the vampire teeth."

Rory let that image sink in and, felt her stomach twinge. "Oh. Well. Okay."

"Power, Gilmore, remember? It's all yours."

& -

"And who," Rory asked as she stepped in front of Jess after managing to part through the costumed crowd partying in Brett Thompson's house, "are you supposed to be?"

Jess, clad in his requisite jeans, T-shirt and added leather jacket, gave her a level look. "Jess Mariano. He's very 'in' right now."

"Well I know somewhere in this house there is a very pissed off Sandra Dee," Rory informed him, giving him a knowing smile. "She looks hot in that skirt with the poodles on it, if you ask me, Danny Zuko."

"Well, I didn't," he replied and looked at her own costume. "You look pretty hot yourself. How'd you manage to swing this by Lorelai?"

Rory took a sip of the punch and muttered into the cup, "Long story."

"Tell me something," he stated, as he tugged on her fake devil horns. "When exactly did we become these people? Me at a fancy dress up party in some rich kid's house, following around a girl who really should be institutionalized and you barely dressed, the next Prom Queen, sneaking things by your mother?"

Her lips twisted in a wry smile. "Change is good, Mariano."

"Easy for you to say," he snorted and then gazed around the room, smirking as he saw various Chilton boys checking Rory out. "You fit right in."

"Huh," she answered, letting the barb roll off of her. "Insulting me isn't going to solve your problems with Paris, Jess. You're sublimating."

"You're cracked." Jess folded his arms over his chest.

"Name-calling," she stated mock-gravely. "Such a defense mechanism."

"Does your psycho-babble drive DuGrey insane too?"

"Say what you will but Paris and nobody else forced you to come to this party," she reminded him tapping his shoulder with the scepter. "Might want to ask yourself why you're here. And I think you know the answer, my friend."

Jess took that in for a minute and then shook his head. "Go annoy DuGrey now."

"I would if I could find him," she replied with a frown. While his reaction to her in the dress was just what she expected: lustful, amused and primitively territorial (he had engaged in her very scandalous PDA before she could regain her senses and push him away) the rest of the evening Tristan had then remained distant, wandering off for a drink by himself and giving up any opportunity to show her off to his buddies. "I'm going to go look for him again. And you go find Paris. I think she went into the kitchen with Louise to get a drink."

Reluctantly, she sent Jess off before making her way back through the students to find her elusive boyfriend. Her search was slowed down by the requests of fellow classmates to dance some which she had trouble saying no to and some she politely refused, saying she needed to find Tristan.

"Brett!" Rory called out to the host, dancing nearby with his girlfriend Carmen. "Have you seen Tristan?"

"He was heading back there," he pointed in the general direction of the French doors leading to the backyard. "He might be by the pool."

"I already checked," she answered loudly over the music, shaking her head.

"He was pretty pissed at something," Brett confided in her, adjusting his pirate eye patch. "I think he actually growled when I asked him something earlier."

Rory smiled at him weakly. "Well, I better find him. Great party."

"Great costume," he replied and earned a smack from Carmen. "Ow!"

Rory checked the poolside again, stopping briefly to chat with Madeline and Louise about who was a better superhero – Batman (whom Brad Langford had come as) or Superman (who he was planning to come as). Finally, she made her way back into the house and headed for the bedrooms upstairs. After a few…incidents with people occupying those rooms, she suddenly thought of the library in the off chance that Tristan had adopted her habits.

And she was right.

"There you are," Rory said softly, as she closed the door of the library behind her. "I've been looking for you everywhere. And I mean, everywhere. Even the bedrooms upstairs and I think some of those couples were pretty peeved to be disturbed."

"Well," he answered as he stared at the rim of the can of beer in his hands, his lips curving in a sardonic half-smile as he leaned back against the leather of the armchair. "Here I am."

"Must've left it somewhere. So hiding from the masses?" she asked as she came to stand in front of him. "I must say we've done quite the role reversal. Me out there, dressed like this might I add, hanging out with your posse and you sitting in a library all by your lonesome." Her forehead furrowed in concern at his apathetic expression but made light of it, running one hand through his hair as she slid down onto his lap. "Tell me, have we somehow fallen into some kind of vortex? Possibly of the _Twilight Zone_ nature?"

"Having fun, are you?" He put the can on the table next to the chair and looked up at her with a curious expression. Rory heard the underlying tone in his voice, the tone that signaled he was about to say something she wouldn't particularly like. "With all those guys watching you and drooling? Your dress doesn't leave much to the imagination, now, does it?"

She opened her mouth in disbelief. Brett had told her Tristan was in one his moods but Rory didn't think he would take it out on her. "Tristan, I had no choice to wear this dress. I lost the bet and _you_ picked it out for me. You knew it would call attention and now you're pissed people are looking?"

"Yes," he said between gritted teeth.

She laughed, leaned in kissed his forehead and then took his face in her hands. "Well you know you don't have anyone to blame but yourself. And not that you deserve to hear this, but I wore this costume for you. _Just_ for you."

Placated, he managed a small chuckle and shook his head. "Okay, fine. I was out of line. I apologize."

She touched her mouth to his and grinned. "Apology accepted. Now you want to tell me the real reason you're being such a grouch? I mean, you helped arrange this party. You live for nights of indulgence and general decadence like these. So what's going on, mister?"

"The aforementioned nights of indulgence and decadence, is what is going on and therefore, is my problem. Well, according to my father, at least," he replied, the bitterness returning to his voice. "We had a minor argument."

"How minor?"

"Well, there was the usual screaming, arms flailing, accusations made, disappointments revealed and at one point I may have gotten up in his face and called him a controlling, Nazi jackass."

"Oh Tristan." She sighed softly, one hand rested on his chest while the other ran through his hair in a soothing gesture. They didn't talk much about his relationship with his father but Rory knew it was volatile and painful and often left him in the worst moods and drove him to acts of delinquency – wild parties, getting drunk, crashing cars. "What ticked him off this time?"

"College applications," he answered disgustedly. "He saw my application to Princeton."

"So? I hear it's a good school."

"Not as good as Yale, though," he answered sarcastically and curled his hand in a fist, shaking it uselessly. "I tried telling him that Yale was always an option, I never denied it. First mistake. Yale is not an option. Not simply an option. Oh no, no, no. Yale, according to William Janlan DuGrey the second, Yale is salvation. It's what I need. What will reform and redeem me. Yale is the fucking be all and end all. And that's basically when it all went to hell."

"I'm sorry," she told him softly, comfortingly. Biting her lower lip, she smiled sympathetically. "If it makes you feel any better, Grandpa really wants me to go to Yale, too."

He gave her a mildly annoyed look. "Yes and your grandfather is exactly like my dad."

"That's not what -"

"Forget it." Tristan cut her off and brought his hand to her thigh, tracing his fingers up and down over the red material. His tone changed, his voice lowered and a mischievous smirk played across his lips. "Did I tell you how incredibly sexy you look in this get-up. I mean, I always knew you'd look delicious but my imagination could never live up to the reality."

She knew he was avoiding but let it slip as her arms twined around his neck and she smiled beguilingly. "Well, glad to be of service to your perverse fantasies, DuGrey."

"You don't know how long I've waited for you to say that," he murmured softly as his hands ran tantalizingly up her back and came behind her neck. Gently, he brought her face to his and brushed his lips against hers, feather light, "so very long."

The kiss deepened, slowly, by degrees. Rory turned on his lap so she was straddling him, her dress flaring and then settling around them, her damp crotch nestled intimately against his rapidly hardening length. They both moaned at the contact, his hands trailing up her legs, under the dress, to her ass as he brought her closer, rolling his hips against her. She nibbled on his lips, her hands in his hair; fire licking against her skin, the long liquid pulls deliciously tugging in her belly. His fingers urgently unzipped her dress from behind, as they traced patterns on the exposed flesh, toying with the clasp of her matching red bra. She broke away from his lips and kissed his cheeks, his jaw line, and his neck. "I locked the door."

"Good thinking," he replied, his voice coming out in a ragged whisper as she ran her hands down his chest, pushing away the flimsy white material of his costume and raking her blunt fingernails over his skin. He threw his head back against the sofa, his hands on her hips now as she wiggled wickedly on his lap, loving the sound of his erratic breathing as all thoughts vanished from his head.

Rory looked at him through lowered lashes as her hands reached the waistband of his trousers and then smiled coyly. He opened his eyes, darkening with lust, and groaned at her expression. Her lips curved wider, in triumph. Lowering her mouth, she kissed the side of his face and nipped his earlobe between her teeth.

_Sex is power. And it's all yours._

"Hey Tristan?"

"Mmyeah?" Came his strangled response.

She flicked the button of his trousers open and reached inside. "Bet I can make you beg."


	47. Chapter 47: Milestones

**Disclaimer: **Still don't own a thing.  
**Author's Note: **Yes, I will be finishing this story. Seriously. It just takes me awhile, deal with it people.  
**Dedication:** To Sus, my tireless beta.

**Chapter 47: Milestones**

The basketball bounced off the metal rim with a resounding bang and fell off the side, landing on the concrete once before Jess caught it. He turned around and popped it back to Tristan standing a few feet away. The other boy caught it and dribbled, waiting to take his shot. He glanced up at Jess poised beneath the hoop and squinted against the sun. "So, you and Gellar…you two pretty serious?"

Jess rolled his eyes and smirked. "Quit stalling and take your shot, DuGrey."

"I'll take that as a yes," Tristan grinned and made his shot; this time the ball went straight through the hoop and Jess caught it again as it fell. "No, man, it's cool. I've got eyes, seems pretty serious to me. You just never struck me as the serious type." When Jess merely raised an eyebrow, Tristan laughed. "Okay, touché. But seriously, I have known Paris Gellar a long time and she's different now. Not glaringly so but just…don't know man, she is. I think you're the reason for it."

Jess's mouth twitched. "I try."

The two boys had developed some weird kind of bond after the night Jess had picked Tristan and Joe up from their drunken night at _Club Soda_. Both were still wary of the other, but they had started hanging out together frequently, on double dates, when Tristan visited Rory in Stars Hollow or when Jess came to Hartford. Despite their differences, Tristan liked Jess for his laid-back attitude and for being able to handle Paris Gellar like a pro.

In an unspoken agreement, they abandoned the game and headed off the court. Tristan picked up the water bottle he had left on the sidelines earlier, and took a deep swig. "Rory should be done by now."

Jess shook his head. "Give her another fifteen minutes. She's in the library, studying. She'll want fifteen more minutes to absorb everything she already knows."

Tristan chuckled. "That's my girl."

"And we all know you're with her because of her brains," Jess stated, rolling his eyes. When Tristan simply shrugged, he shook his head and took off in the direction of the library, the other boy falling in step. "Seriously, the exam isn't even until the end of _next_ week and she's already hard at work. She's crazy."

"Well she's been distracted lately," he replied with a knowing smirk. Then he stopped for a second as something finally registered. "Wait, what day is it today?"

"The twentieth. Why?"

"No reason." Tristan shook his head. Except, it had been more than a month since Rory had been on the pill.

They had been so caught up in everything else – in building a relationship (which was a new concept for him in the first place) – that the days just seemed to blend together. Despite the fact that it was getting harder for him to say good night at the end of a date, and harder for him to hold back when things heated up between them, he was content with just being with her. The sex, while still something he wanted desperately, wasn't the _only_ thing he wanted when he was around her.

God, he was becoming such a pussy.

"Shouldn't think that much, DuGrey," Jess pointed out, snapping him out of his thoughts. "Not good for the brain, I hear. What, did you realize your trust fund kicks in today and you're free from the iron-fists of your parents?"

"Something like that," Tristan responded and then clarified; "Rory and I have been dating for almost three months now."

"Ah," Jess said briefly, nodding a bit, "a milestone."

"Really? Three months? I mean for me, sure. But for normal people three months is a milestone?"

"Since Dean is as normal as they come, yes." Jess answered. When Tristan shot him a 'the hell?' look he elaborated, "Dean went all out on their third anniversary. Fancy restaurant and there was something about making her a car – which I crashed but anyway – it was a big deal I guess."

"Do you think she expects something?" Tristan asked, worry creeping into his voice. They hadn't discussed anniversaries and even with Tristan's usual flair for the romantic, he had never actually made it past any significant anniversary with a girl before. Even with Mirabelle, who he had spent the longest time with, they never _celebrated_ anything.

Jess shook his head, trying to ease the concern. "Rory knows you; she knows you probably don't even remember. Don't sweat it."

Tristan considered that for a moment and grinned. "Well then, I guess I'll just have to surprise her."

- & -

"Hey you," Rory greeted Tristan as she exited the library and found him waiting for her; Jess nowhere to be seen. He bent his head to kiss her. "Were you waiting long?"

"No," he said as they started heading back towards the town square. "Jess just left a couple of minutes ago. Hey, do you know it's the twentieth?"

"I know!" she replied, and adjusted her backpack. "I can't believe this paper is almost due. I am so behind schedule. Thanks to you."

He shrugged and replied modestly, "I do what I can. But I wasn't talking about when the paper's due, Rory. Today's the twentieth. You know what that means?"

"Don't keep me in suspense."

"You and I have been going out for almost three months now."

"Wow," she replied with a grin. "This is quite an achievement for you, isn't it? Who woulda thunk?"

"And to celebrate that," he answered, taking the jab good-naturedly, "I think we should do something. Special."

She smiled, touched that he wanted to celebrate (and pleased that he remembered) and hooked her arm into the crook of his as they walked towards _Luke's_. "And what do you have in mind?"

"A nice, quiet dinner at my place. My parents won't be home and if I had any culinary skills whatsoever, I'd cook for you or something horribly clichéd and romantic like that but we could order in…"

Rory turned to him and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. "If I didn't know any better, DuGrey, I'd think you were trying to seduce me."

He raised an eyebrow as his hands settled around her waist. "Only if it's working…"

"You and me, alone at your house, celebrating an anniversary?" she asked, biting her lower lip in a nervous gesture. Tristan prepared himself for the rebuttal but was surprised when Rory grinned widely and tightened her grip on his shoulders. "I am so there."

He leaned down to kiss her, forgetting that they were standing in the middle of Stars Hollow, right across from _Luke's_. The kiss heated up immediately, as he pulled her closer, molding her to him without protest. Her fingers threaded in his hair and he let his hands slide lower to cup her ass.

"And there's something a mother never wants to see," Lorelai commented with false cheer as she approached the couple. The two broke apart but didn't let go of each other as they turned to face her. "Taylor is probably writing you up a citation, Rory."

Tristan glanced over at _Doose's_. "Can he do that?"

Rory shrugged. "It's Taylor."

He smiled and then leaned down to kiss her briefly. "Okay, I have to get going. Dad's been on my case again and Grandfather wants to discuss the matter. Good times. So I'll see you later? We'll make plans."

Rory fought back a blush at his intimate implication and avoided her mother's questioning gaze. "We'll make plans."

Once Tristan left, Lorelai's curiosity got the best of her. "So there are plans?"

Rory smiled innocently as she continued towards _Luke's_. "It's our three month anniversary. He thought we should celebrate since it's such a big achievement for him."

"What is with you and three months anniversaries?"

"Don't know," Rory answered as she opened the door to Luke's. "Let's just hope I don't end up breaking up with this one."

"My fingers are crossed." The Gilmore girls sat down and ordered lunch before Lorelai continued her inquisition. "So, what does Tristan have planned?"

Rory fidgeted, played with her napkin. "A romantic dinner, I guess."

Lorelai looked dubious. "Really? Just a romantic dinner? I mean, isn't that a little too normal? I thought he'd have a little more imagination than that."

Rory blushed, thinking about just _how much_ imagination Tristan possessed; if what he did with that tongue of his was anything to go by. She folded her arms on top of the table and decided she couldn't evade her mother on this. "We're going to spend the evening at his house. His parent's are gone and he thinks a quiet dinner at home would be a change of pace. Nicer too, if you think about it."

Lorelai nodded, pursing her lips together. "Definitely more intimate."

"Yeah."

"I didn't know you were, I mean I knew you were on the pill and everything and that…just not that you'd already decided that you'd, you know?" her mother said, looking a little pale. "I thought I'd get more of a heads up."

"He just remembered," Rory explained nervously. "It was spontaneous."

"Oh," Lorelai responded and took a sip of water. "And you're ready."

"Mom, I don't even know if that's what he's planned -" Lorelai scoffed at that and Rory gave her a warning look, "it was kind of implied but we didn't really discuss it."

The elder Lorelai nodded and tried to smile reassuringly. "Sweetie, if you're ready. If you really think you are and this is what you want, I'm not going to change your mind. No matter how much I might want to. Ever since you've been on that pill, I've been preparing for this inevitability. I mean you make lists and weigh the pros and cons for every little thing so for this, I want you to be sure. Really sure. I need you to do that for me, okay?"

She nodded. "I know. I won't do anything unless I'm sure. You know that."

- & -

"I need a dress."

Louise raised an eyebrow as Rory Gilmore swooshed into her room, brown hair flying and a determined expression on her face. The surprise she felt at seeing the girl there, unannounced on a Friday afternoon, quickly vanished as she sat up on her bed and smiled. It was emergencies like this – and she could tell by the look in Rory's eyes that this was an emergency – that Louise Grant lived for. "What's the occasion?"

Rory blushed and played with the hem of her Chilton blazer. "Tristan and I are celebrating our three month anniversary tomorrow."

"Wow. Three months," Louise stated as she scrunched her nose and slid off her bed. "Has it really only been three months since senior year started? It seems like forever."

"Yeah, time is funny like that," Rory said impatiently and pointed to herself, "but um, emergency."

"Right. Now, don't get me wrong, it's not that I don't love dispensing fashion advice and playing dress up but you and I have distinctly… _different_ styles and you won't find the waify-pixie-fairy-down-to-Earth vibe that apparently works wonders for you in my closet," Louise disclosed with a wave of her hand as she walked towards her huge walk-in closet.

"Thank you for that rundown on my style. But that's the thing…I need something more you than me, tomorrow night." Louise turned back to her and raised an inquisitive eyebrow at that. Rory blushed again avoiding her friend's gaze. "It's a big night. Tomorrow. And I want to look amazing. You're kind of amazing."

"Honey, the only reason one would want to look my kind of amazing is if they were planning on having my kind of fun," Louise countered with a devilish smirk.

Rory looked at her pointedly. "Exactly."

"Oh."

"Yeah," she echoed as Louise processed the information. "Tristan has this romantic dinner planned and my closet doesn't have anything that screams 'take me now!' and I'm betting yours does."

"Yeah, it does," Louise replied off-handedly. "So when did this happen? I mean, I know you were thinking about it and God knows if Tristan were my boyfriend I'd be all over him like white on rice but this is…you. You're sure?"

Rory bit her lower lip nervously and hesitated before answering. "Yes, I'm sure."

"I'll say it again. Wow." Louise took a deep breath and then grinned. "It's a little ironic, you know. I mean you had Mr. Perfect for a boyfriend for almost two years and never once did you think you were ready."

Rory nodded and then sat down on the bed. "I know! It's weird. Do you think I'm rushing? Getting caught up in the newness of my relationship and letting it cloud my judgment?"

Louise arched an eyebrow. "Gilmore, you're asking someone whose judgment has always been clouded on the matter of sex and I'd rather not have Lorelai chasing me down the street with a blunt knife."

"Of course," Rory replied with a chuckle. She looked at Louise and became serious. "I'm just sure. He has this romantic dinner planned and I don't know why but it feels like this is it, Tristan's the guy. And I'm not thinking what it means for us or for my future. I'm just going with my gut here. It's a big deal but I trust him. God only knows why I trust him."

"Well, if the rumor mills are correct then you're in good hands," Louise responded with a giggle. "Gotta say Gilmore, I'm jealous. Now let's find you a dress." The blonde stepped into her closet and came back out moments later, with a couple of dresses in her arms. She laid them out on the bed and turned to Rory, excitement in her eyes. "These are only a few."

Rory's eyes bugged out. "I don't think we will have to look through your entire closet. I'm sure that -"

"No," Louise cut her off. "You have to look perfect. Now, let's see. Blue is the obvious choice since I really think it's your color but -"

"I wore blue at my party. I wore red at Brett's party but that was part of the costume. We should go for something else. Maybe…black?"

"That definitely is the color you wanna wear for sex," Louise replied, tapping her finger against her skin. "And I have the perfect pair of "fuck me" black pumps that would go with such a dress but…"

"I don't want to be too obvious?" Rory reached for a silky chocolate brown number that was peeping up from the bottom of the pile. The bodice was cut modestly in a V, plunging a little deep between her breasts and the skirt stopped just above her knees. "Mm, maybe something like this? Not too desperate but just enough _oomph_ to let him know…"

The blonde looked at her approvingly. "You'll look good enough to eat. And the pumps'll still go. So I guess we've got a winner."

Rory laughed and hugged Louise. "Thank you so much! I owe you, big time."

"Wait hold on, what about lingerie? You can't wear Hanes Her Way under this, Gilmore."

"I know," Rory replied with a scathing look and ran her fingers over the material of the dress once more. "I've got it covered. A sexy bra that actually makes it look like I have breasts and a matching thong so as to avoid a panty line…in black lace. It's very…_slimming_."

Louise blew out a breath. "Gilmore, I think you know a lot more about the mating ritual than you let on."

"Believe me I've been thinking about this a lot lately."

"With Tristan as a boyfriend, it's hard not to," Louise stated as she flopped down on the bed beside her dresses. "And what he's doing for you is nice. Romantic, even, and this coming from a cynic such as myself. It's a big thing; you never forget your first time."

"So I hear," Rory replied with a laugh. "I just hope it's perfect."

_To be continued... _


	48. Chapter 48: Anniversary

**Chapter 48: Anniversary**

She was nervous. Her hands were shaking slightly as she reached out to press the doorbell and she knew it wasn't from the cold. In their three month relationship, Rory had stood outside Tristan's door many times and she was never as nervous as she was at that moment.

Of course, those times she hadn't planned to go in and lose her virginity.

As always, she had really planned the night: with a pro/con list and then she had even made up a scenario in her mind about how she would actually go about seducing Tristan into bed. Of course, if he didn't do it first. Which she was sure that he would and that - the not knowing how it was going to play out - _that_ just added to her nervousness.

Wringing her hands together, she pushed her hair away from her face and mentally reassessed the way she was dressed. She had on Louise's dress, her hair was left open, her make-up was impeccable and she looked the part of a mature, healthy young adult who was ready to have sex.

_Except, maybe you aren't_, a tiny voice muttered inside of her. _If you're so nervous, you know. Just a thought. _She shook her head to clear herself of negative thoughts. She wanted this…she wanted him. So much that it scared her a little bit. _It's just Tristan_, she soothed herself for the umpteenth time. _You trust him and care about him. Everything is going to be perfect._

The door opened and Tristan stood there, dressed perfectly in grey slacks and a soft, powder blue sweater that set off his eyes. His mouth stretched in a smile as his gaze met hers. "Rory, you look incredible."

Feeling ridiculous for the blush that stained her cheeks, she stepped inside and tried to make light of the tension cackling between them. "And I haven't even taken off my coat."

He grinned and reached for it. "Well then let me get that for you."

When he took it off, she gave an elaborate twirl for effect and so that he could see the expanse of skin on her back that the dress didn't cover. When she turned her heel and saw the look in his eyes, she knew she had hit the bulls-eye with her choice. _Thank you Louise_, she thought silently and smiled. "You like?"

He cleared his throat and murmured, "_Happy anniversary_, Tristan."

She giggled, stepped closer and took his face in her hands. "Yes; Happy anniversary, Tristan."

He repeated the sentiment and kissed her, melting away all her fears.

- & -

"I can't believe you did all this," Rory stated again as she looked across the candlelit table at Tristan. At his look, she chuckled and amended, "Okay, I mean, _had_ all this done."

"Stop sounding so surprised, Gilmore," Tristan chided as he reached for her hand. "I have been known as a romantic."

She giggled and looked around the room again. Tristan had transformed the DuGrey's living room into something out of a Disney movie. Thousands of flowers, roses, lilies, and bluebells filled the room. Candles were lit everywhere so they really didn't need any extra lighting, the fireplace was blazing softly and the room was devoid of all furniture except for the exquisite mahogany table he'd set up for their dinner. Furthermore, as Tristan had informed her, the help had scrubbed every inch of the room to make sure it was perfect for their night.

Soft strands of music played throughout the main sound system, apparently heard throughout the whole mansion.

Rory was glad his parents were out of the town and the help had been instructed to be extra invisible that night – she didn't want Tristan's blatant seduction to be such public knowledge.

And to think she had come in with her mind set on _seducing him_ into bed.

At that thought, Rory picked up her champagne glass (the bottle he acquired without his father's consent) and drowned the last sip. She raised it and tipped it in the direction of the bucket of ice by his side. "I think champagne is my new favorite drink."

Though his brows furrowed a bit – it was her fourth glass that evening – a smirk tugged at his lips. "I think coffee will be very offended."

"It'll understand."

Tristan pointed his fork at her. "You haven't eaten all that much. Not up to your standards, I presume?"

She blushed slightly. "It's wonderful. I ate, I guess I'm just not that hungry."

He reached across the table for her hand and smiled. "Well then dance with me, Rory. Before dessert."

As she got up, she wondered if the 'dessert' he planned was sex. Because if so, she'd need more champagne. "Okay, but bring the bottle with you."

"Well come back for it later," he answered easily and pulled her close. When his mouth was next to her ear and his arm securely around her waist, he whispered, "Let me hold you, Ror."

"Okay," she answered and settled in his arms, snuggling against his chest. "Mm, you smell wonderful."

He chuckled. "Thanks."

When the strands of a familiar song started to play, she lifted her head and stared at him in surprise. "Is this…you remembered?"

"Of course. The first song we ever danced to…"

"Wow."

_And if I had more than wealth could buy,_

_I'd sell it all and start again_

_For just a chance with you_

_Girl, I'd give my all to win your love._

_And I would be rich_

_And I would build all my world around you,_

_Just to show you_

_How you take my breath away._

_And you would fine love, sweet lady_

_Nobody else this side of heaven knows,_

_How you take my breath away._

"You do realize that this is 98 Degrees, right?"

He looked down at her, smiling. "I am aware, yes."

"So you're saying this is our song, then?" she asked looking a little worried.

"Well, for now," he answered quickly. "Until we find something better, something more us."

"Okay," she answered and then lifted her mouth to his, for a kiss.

His hands skimmed down her bare back and then up again, into her hair as he angled her head, thrusting his tongue deeply into the hot wetness of her mouth. She moaned against him, stopped swaying, and wrapped her arms tightly around him. Every soft contour of her body pressed against him, as his body strained, demanded more. _Slower, slower_, he told himself as greed and lust swept through him. _You promised yourself you'd go slowly with her_.

The weeks of torture, of being in her arms, of doing everything but what he really wanted to do were driving him insane, and her own hungry response to his kiss wasn't helping his resolve either. She had been shy and fearful in the beginning of their sexual escapades, and he had tightly reined in his control - something he had never been good at - for her sake. He had resolved to inch pass all of the barriers, making her feel more comfortable with him, showing her exactly what it was that the mere sight of her did to him, showing her that sex could be intimate and bring them closer together.

And it had worked. Soon, she had matched him desire for desire, need for need as she shed her inhibitions, followed his lead and let him discover every glorious, sensuous inch of her body.

As torturous as it had been for him to take it slow when all he wanted to do was grab her hips and sink into her, he had known that it was much different for her and the only way he'd get his wish was if he went slow. So he wasn't about to let weeks of frustrated foreplay be ruined by his raging hormones and his need for lightening speed gratification.

He wasn't going to lose her when he was so close to having all of her.

With Herculean effort, he reached up for her arms, unwinding them from him and tearing his mouth away from her. Her eyes fluttered open, her eyes filled with desire and confusion as she pulled her swollen lower lip between her teeth.

He almost groaned and fought back the urge to pull her against him. He brought his hand (damn it, why was it shaking?) to her face and tucked her hair behind her ear. Smiling gently, he steadied his breathing and said, "We still have dessert."

She smiled impishly, running her hands up his chest. "I thought that's what we were having just then."

He chuckled and kissed her forehead. Jesus, she was trying to kill him.

- & -

She was exceedingly tipsy. Oh hell, who was he kidding? Rory was drunk.

If he hadn't been watching his plans of slow, gentle seduction slowly crumble with every sip of champagne she took, he would have found her drunken ramblings hilariously endearing. She was leaning forward and talking animatedly about…well, almost everything, as she gulped down four more glasses of champagne. She had only finished one fourth of her tiramisu – which should have alerted Tristan to the fact that his chocolate/coffee loving girlfriend, preferred alcohol to caffeine and sugar.

"You know what another funny animal is?" Rory asked, straying off to another tangent. "An emu."

"A what?"

"An emu, Trisstan," she replied, slurring a little. Then she giggled. "It's like an ostrich but it's not. It's a poor man's ostrich! God, they're so ugly."

"And you've seen an emu up close and personal, have you?" he asked, resigned to her intoxication.

"On the Discovery Channel, duh, Tristan," she replied, waving her fork. "Animal Planet is like my favorite show EVER."

"Okay," he said, hands in the air. "I believe you."

She pouted and extended her glass in his direction. "More please."

"No," he said firmly, put his napkin next to his dessert plate and stood up. "I think eight is your limit."

"One more," she cajoled her blue, sleepy eyes wide and pleading. "Please."

"So you can hate me in the morning for getting you drunk?" he asked a little testily. "No thank you. Now get up, Rory."

"Where are we going?"

"Upstairs."

Instantly, her features sobered and she hiccupped. "Oh."

Tristan let out a frustrated breath. Christ, the look on her face was amazing. She looked like he was about to take her upstairs to execute her. After all this time, he thought she was ready to have sex with him. It wasn't like what they had been up to for the past month or so was anything innocent – Rory was definitely exuding signs of wanting to take that final jump.

But tonight was a different story altogether.

He should have recognized much sooner that she was plowing herself with alcohol to be pleasantly numb for the whole experience. This meant, explicitly, she wasn't ready at all. Just because he thought three months was plenty time to get used to the idea of having sex with him, didn't mean she did.

God, he was such a jackass. He had been so careful so that she wouldn't feel even the slightest amount of pressure to only heap it all on her shoulders at the last minute.

Snapping out of his self-disgust, he helped Rory to her feet and resolved to make it up to her the minute she sobered. "Come on, babe."

She turned and wrapped her arms around him and rested her head against his chest. "Tristan?"

"Yes?" he asked, running a soothing hand down her back.

"I really want to do this." He tightened his grip and thought, _No, you don't_. "I've wanted you for so long. I mean not so long because when I first met you I could barely stand you. Not barely stand you but you were making a jackass out of yourself and I couldn't be bothered and -"

"I know, Rory," he said, fighting back the ridiculous urge to laugh.

She lifted her head and looked into his eyes. "But somewhere along the way, way before we started all this sex stuff…I wanted you. I think."

He studied her face for a minute, her eyes were still unfocused, but it was like she was lucid somewhere in the back of her head, and then nodded. "Okay. I've wanted you since I first saw you."

She nodded and returned her head to his chest. "I know. And that scared the crap out of me."

"I'm sorry." He reached down and scooped her into his arms. "I'll make it up to you, I swear."

"In bed, of course," she said and nodded. "I know you'll take care of me."

Tristan tried not to stumble as he carried her to the stairs. _Rhett Butler made this look much, much easier,_ he thought as he adjusted Rory in his arms. He tried to lighten the mood and smirked, "Since I know you won't remember this come morning, you are not as light as you look, Rory Gilmore."

She nodded. "I have heavy bones. Trissstan, I have condoms in my purse."

He nearly missed a step. "Fuck, Gilmore."

"Maybe we should go get them. I want to be safe. My mom would freak if she knew I had unprotected sex. I don't want to be thinking of my mom."

"Babe, I have condoms in my room." Tristan reached the top of the stairs and headed for his bedroom.

"Of course you do," she said with a small giggle. "Silly me. I just wanted everything to be perfect," she continued to ramble as he laid her on the bed. "I mean just perfect for you and for me. Everyone makes such a big deal about sex, you know?"

He looked down at her affectionately as he sat down next to her. "I know. It is a big step."

She sat up on the bed and threw her hands up. "_Exactly!_ And I wanted to know for sure that it was…you know…_perfect_. For me and especially for you. And that I am ready and it's all good and…perfect. Am I making any sense, Tristan? Are you even listening?"

"Perfectly. Now let's get you out of that dress so you can be more comfortable." He nodded as he reached behind her to pull down the zipper of her dress. She allowed him to push the straps off her shoulders. When the material fell away from her upper body, revealing the sexy-as-hell, lacey, black bra she was wearing underneath, Tristan groaned out loud. "Jesus Christ, Rory."

"I bought it last week," she shared with him as she reached behind to unclasp it. He grabbed her hands and stopped her before he forgot his noble intentions. She looked up at him, blue eyes shining earnestly. "I wanted to be perfect for you."

He swallowed hard and touched the side of her face. "Rory."

She reached up and grabbed the back of his head and pulled his face closer to hers. "I love you."

Before he could even process her declaration, her lips were on his, kissing him sweetly, sloppily - drunkenly. He gave in, kissing her back earnestly, taking control. She sighed happily against him and pulled him onto the bed. He obliged and covered her body with his, bracing himself on his elbows as he kissed her.

Hearing those words, coming from her; he was overcome with his feelings for her and for a second, he forgot that she was drunk and not in possession of all her mental capabilities. He knew that if she were, she was be freaking out rather than submitting so easily.

_I love you_.

She had no idea how dangerous those words were and he had no idea how much her saying them – drunk or not – would affect him.

He trailed his lips down her neck as she mewled in his ear, arching her body into his and softly running her hands through his hair. His mouth traveled lower and he wrapped his lips around the black lace covering her nipple.

_Stop!_ A voice shouted suddenly. _What are you doing? She's drunk and you will not take advantage of her._ He wrenched away from her and shook his head to clear the haze of desire. Rory's eyes were still closed and she was sighing, almost…sleepily.

"Ror, I'll be right back."

Her eyes fluttered open and she focused on him for a second, snuggling into the pillows as he hands fell away from him. "Okay. Come back quick."

He kissed her forehead and ordered himself to move away from her. His body protested but his mind was made up and he grabbed his cell phone from the nightstand and fled to the bathroom. Once inside, he leaned against the door and took a few deep breaths to calm his system and muttered. "I swear I should get a medal."

He flipped open his phone and searched for a number before hitting send. Bringing the phone to his ear he waited for an answer.

"Hello?"

"Hey Lorelai, it's Tristan."

"Tristan," she said sounding slightly alarmed. "Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, everything's fine," he reassured her and then sighed. "It's just that, um, Rory's a little tipsy."

"Oh."

"Yeah and I thought it was better if she slept it off here," he said. "And if she's feeling better and it's not late, I'll drive her home."

"Yeah…I mean, no," Lorelai said sounding distracted. "Stay there. She can come home in the morning."

He was surprised by her response but shrugged. "Okay. I just wanted to let you know that she's fine. I shouldn't have let her have so much champagne. There's no excuse I can make that you'll believe but I take full responsibility."

Lorelai sighed. "No, that's not fair. But thank you for being honest."

"Okay."

She waited a minute and then said, "And thanks for calling."

"No problem. Goodnight Lorelai."

He hung up and pinched the bridge of his nose. This was definitely a new experience for him - usually it was the girl locked in the bathroom making SOS calls or reassuring mothers that they were okay. Chuckling, he opened the door only to be greeted by the soft snoring of his girlfriend, asleep on his bed, clad in sheer black lace.

A certain part of his anatomy stirred at the sight and he sighed for what felt like the umpteenth time that night. "Yeah, definitely a medal."

_To Be Continued…_


	49. Chapter 49: The Whenever After

**Chapter 49: The Whenever After**

Rory sighed as she shut her locker and rested her head against the metal. It had been a long day at school and it wasn't even lunch time yet.

And it had been an even longer weekend.

While her weekends were usually quite relaxing and fun, especially now since she had a boyfriend with whom she spent endless hours exploring pleasure whenever they had free time, this weekend was tense and nerve-wracking since said boyfriend had been scarce and suddenly quite unavailable.

It didn't take Rory's stellar GPA to figure out why Tristan was suddenly MIA.

She groaned as she thought about their anniversary night; how had it gone so wrong?

_Rory woke up completely disoriented. Her head was pounding and her mouth felt like it was stuffed with cotton. Through the haze she managed to recognize that she was Tristan's bed._

_The night before came back to hit her full-force. _

_She glanced down to see that she was still in her lingerie and Tristan was sleeping next to her completely dressed – not at all like she had imagined waking up with him. Slowly, she slipped out of bed as quietly as she could and made her way to the bathroom. She had splashed her face with cold water and battled with the urge to take a shower. _

_If Tristan walked in while she was showering it would be very awkward. _God,_ she thought with a sigh. _Now things are going to be awkward.

_"Rory?" Tristan called out as he knocked on the bathroom door. "You in there?"_

_"Yeah, just a sec," she replied and quickly wiped her face with a towel nearby. She glanced down at her scantily clad body and cursed herself for not bringing her dress into the bathroom with her. Rory grabbed Tristan's robe from behind the door and put it on before taking a deep steady breath and opening the door._

_Tristan stood there with a small smile on his face. "Hey."_

_"Hi," she said, feeling her cheeks flame. She stepped out of the bathroom and put her hands on his chest. "I'm sorry."_

_The smile on his face disappeared and he pushed her hair behind her ear. "Don't be."_

_She saw the sincerity on his face and sighed in relief. She reached for his hand, kissed his palm. "Thank you."_

_He wrapped his arms came around her. "That robe looks better on you than it does on me."_

_She smiled cheekily, glad that things were back to normal. "I doubt it."_

_"Well, I doubt you're hungry…" Rory grimaced as he continued. "So, coffee?"_

Things were normal for that day, Tristan made her coffee and they laughed and chatted over breakfast. They didn't talk about the night before and he didn't complain about the lack of sex even once and part of Rory was relieved. But then, the part that worried that things were only perfect on the surface reared its head and predictably, Tristan only proved it by becoming distant and unreachable the rest of the weekend.

She didn't understand it at first and kept replaying the night in her head, over and over to make sure she hadn't said or done anything that had upset him.

And then she remembered.

_"I love you."_

"Gilmore," Paris said from the locker next to hers. "You look like crap."

"Thanks Paris, you always make me feel so much better."

Paris sighed and leaned against her own locker. "What happened this time?"

Rory closed her locker and pinched the bridge of her nose. "My anniversary night with Tristan didn't go exactly as I planned."

"Cherry still intact, huh?"

Rory blew out a frustrated breath, "God Paris, tactless much?"

"Whatever. What happened?"

It was Rory's turn to sigh and lean against her locker. "I got drunk and told him I loved him."

"Oh."

She stared at the blond. "You don't sound that surprised."

"That you love him? No, I'm not," Paris answered off-handedly. "It came as a surprise to you?"

Rory watched her classmates pass by in the hallways and smiled to herself. "No."

"Right because you wouldn't ever seriously consider sleeping with Tristan unless you loved him," Paris answered as he put her hand on Rory's shoulder. "And you wouldn't be able to go through with it unless you knew he loved you back."

The brunette stared at her friend in astonishment. "Since when did you become an expert on me?"

Paris rolled her eyes. "It doesn't take a genius to figure it out, Rory. Besides, I get it. It's a huge deal for you given your mom's experience and everything. And I hate to use such a cliché but sex changes everything."

Rory nodded and took a minute to let her friend's words sink in. Then she stood up straight and stared Paris. "Wait…are you saying…you and Jess…you guys," she dropped her voice to whisper, "had sex?"

The blonde blushed and shrugged. "Yeah, so?"

"I'm not judging," Rory said quickly hearing the defensiveness in the other girl's voice. "I just didn't know you were you know…there."

"Neither did I," Paris admitted, adjusting the strap of her backpack. "But it happened. It was nice."

Rory shook her head in amazement. "Wow. I'm happy for you Paris. That's why Jess has been so _smug_ these past few days."

Before Paris could answer though, Madeline rushed up to the pair, looking a little haggard. "Rory! What happened?"

Rory gave Paris a questioning look before addressing the brunette. "What do you mean?"

"You haven't heard?" Madeline replied, placing a hand on her forearm. "Tristan got into a fight!"

"What? Why? With who?"

"Jack Hunter, no one knows what caused it but if you ask me it was a long time coming. It happened in the boy's locker room. It was magnificent. Or at least that's what Frannie told me," the girl rattled and then looked at Rory's worried expression and grimaced. "Sorry. I'm not sure but they were both pretty banged up. Tristan's in the nurse's office. He has to report to Charleston."

"Damn it," Rory cursed uncharacteristically. Tristan had been on edge and frustrated ever since the Halloween party after the fight with his dad and she knew it was exactly this kind of behavior that would cause even bigger problems between father and son. Brawls in school, she was certain, were not fitting of a DuGrey. And Tristan didn't need another suspension to add to his record. She started heading in the direction of the nurse's office just as the bell rang. "I'm going to go see if he's alright."

"You have Physics, Rory," Paris reminded her.

"Cover for me," she called over her shoulder, throwing her friend a grateful smile.

When she got to the nurses' office, she immediately spotted Tristan in a far corner, holding an ice bag to his lower lip and still managing to scowl fiercely at Jack Hunter who was sitting across from him, in the opposite corner, a dark purple bruise under his left eye. Inwardly, Rory cheered that Tristan had obviously kicked the other boy's ass. Jack sneered at her as she passed him but refrained from making a comment.

Tristan had the decency to look a little sheepish. "Hey."

"I leave you alone for one minute and look what happens," she teased as she sat down next to him. She noticed that his knuckles were reddened and she shook her head. "Tristan."

"Rory," he said in a mock grave voice.

She ignored him. "Are you hurt?"

"You kidding?" he replied as he removed the ice pack. "This is nothing. Besides, look at the other guy."

"And I bet you're going to say that he started it?"

He straightened in his chair. "He did."

"I'm sure whatever he said didn't call for you to - "

"He was trash talking you."

Rory couldn't help it – a part of her delighted in the fact that he was defending her honor and a goofy smile tugged at her lips. "Well, in that case, I hoped you got in a punch from me too."

"That's my girl." Tristan grinned and then grimaced as blood welled out of his split lip. "Fuck."

Rory took the ice from his hand and gently applied it to his lip. Jack Hunter got up and left behind the school nurse when she called him. "You have to go to Charleston?"

"Yeah. The schmuck'll give me three day suspension."

"And your dad?"

Tristan let out a bitter chuckle. "Who knows? A lecture. We'll probably yell. He'll probably take the car away from me."

"Will he let me see you?"

Tristan took her hand in his and smiled. "He adores you and thinks you're a good influence on me. He'll probably tell you in so many words. 'Lorelai,' he'll say with a smile that I haven't seen in ages, 'Tristan needs someone like you in his life. He's rather…wild and disturbed. I was like him at that age except not as devilishly handsome and dashing -"

"Stop," Rory admonished with a giggle. "Your father is a peach."

"Only in that he bruises easily," Tristan snorted and then straightened when Nurse Alice appeared. "Can I go now?"

"Yes," she replied with a kindly nurse smile Rory was sure they had to teach you and then added, "straight to Headmaster Charleston."

"I'll come with you," Rory offered as they stood up.

"You don't have to do that."

"I want to," she replied as she helped him out of the nurse's office. "Unless you don't want me to."

"I just don't want you to get in trouble with Charleston because of me."

"Well you got into a knock-down-drag-out because of me so I think I can handle it," she replied and leaned up to kiss his cheek.

He smiled half-heartedly and awkwardness descended as they walked down the deserted hallway together. Rory wracked her brain, thinking of something to say. But Tristan beat her to it. "Ror, we need to talk."

They came to a halt in front of the headmaster's office. "Yeah, which is what I wanted to do all weekend but you were kind of hard to reach."

He sighed. "I know."

"I left five messages."

"I know."

"That sounds so pathetic," she said and started to play with the hem of her sweater. "If it's about what I said - "

"Rory," Tristan interrupted and grabbed her hands. "I'm sorry I was so distant but I just needed to put some…distance between us. Just for the sake of my sanity."

Hurt, Rory blinked a couple of time to keep the tears at bay. "Oh."

"Shit, that didn't come out right."

"No, I get it," Rory said as she started to back away, wrenching her hands out of his. He made a grab for her again as she turned away from him. "I really should get to Physics."

"Gilmore, it's not what you think," he grabbed her backpack and turned her around. "Don't be ridiculous."

"Oh, I'm being ridiculous?" she asked even though that's exactly what she feeling. "Well, sorry about that I just don't know how to react when my boyfriend says he wants to be away from me because he's going insane."

He took her face in his hands and forced her to look at him. "I needed distance because I didn't want to pressure you."

"Pressure me for what?" she asked, confused.

Tristan dropped his hands from her face and ran one through his hair. "What happened that night was partly my fault. I've made this relationship about sex – from the beginning. Your mom might have been right about that one, by the way. And it has put pressure on you and you didn't even know it."

"Tristan -"

"I needed distance because I just thought we needed a new perspective," he cut in, desperate to make her understand. "I need you to know that this isn't just about sex for me."

"Tristan," Rory said again, this time softly, feeling her heart melt. "I know that."

"You do?" he asked and she nodded. "Then let's take sex off the table."

"What?"

He nodded vigorously and slashed his hand in the air to make his point clear. "Off the table. We don't need to have sex. We can just…be together. It's made me happy these past few months so something else must be working."

"You're serious?" she asked, smirking. "You don't want to have sex with me anymore."

"Yes," he said and then backtracked. "I mean, no. I want to. But that's just not all I want from you."

Rory smiled and stepped forward, wrapped her arms around his neck. "You never cease to surprise me, Tristan DuGrey."

He pressed against her and kissed her forehead. "I'm glad."

"And just for the record," she teased, kissing his cheek and then trailing her lips down his jaw line. "I don't think you'll be able to resist. You do remember the No Kissing rule I instated a couple of week ago? How long did that last?"

"Well we're talking about my willpower, not yours," he joked, slapping her lightly on the behind.

"Exactly, so then according to my calculations we should be having sex, right about, oh, now."

"Don't tempt me, Mary," he chuckled and then slowly pulled out of her embrace. "I think Charleston is waiting for me."

"Yeah," she said. "See you later?"

He nodded and she started to walk away. A heartbeat later, he called out to her. "Hey Ror?"

She turned. "Yeah?"

"I love you, too."

Her smile bloomed again, threatening to split her face. "I know."

_To Be Continued..._


	50. Chapter 50: A rainy Afternoon

**Chapter 50: A Rainy Afternoon**

"So do you agree?" Lorelai asked as she crossed her legs and took a deep sip of coffee from the mug placed in front of her.

"Do I agree with what?" Luke asked looking put out as he tried to put down an order and listen to his ex-girlfriend's incessant blabbering. Lorelai didn't mind that he was frowning and threatening to have her bodily removed from the diner she was just relieved to be able to get back to something normal with him.

"That Rory walks differently?"

He stopped writing and looked at her, eyebrows raised. "What?"

"She walks differently," Lorelai clarified, titling her head to one side. "I can't describe it; it's like she almost sways when she walks. Her hips, they sway. Don't you think?"

"I'm sorry Lorelai I don't spend that much time looking at your daughter's hips," he deadpanned, uncomfortable.

"Right," she replied making a face at the thought. "Sorry. I just meant, she's changed and I don't know how to stop it."

Because he knew that Rory's relationship with Tristan had caused Lorelai considerable tension and stress, he softened his face and shrugged. "Maybe you don't try to stop it. Maybe you just let it be."

Lorelai's mouth opened and closed once before she spoke. "Did you just say something calm and rational about Rory and a boy she's dating?"

"It's not my place. Besides, as much as I hate to admit it – and I really, really do – she looks happy. I didn't like her seeing Dean, Jess was a disaster and I thought this Tristan kid was gonna be a class A jerk but he really seems to be treating her right. So what can you do, right? The world will still try and throw you a curveball once in awhile."

"Yeah, it will," Lorelai murmured and took another sip of her coffee because she didn't know what else to say.

"Now can I go back and run my livelihood?"

"Yeah." As he turned, she continued, "Hey Luke?"

"Hmm?" he replied distracted.

"It is your place," she said with a genuine smile. "With Rory, I mean. I would like it very much if you had an opinion about her every once in awhile."

He waited a beat and then nodded. "Duly noted."

"And what is Luke noting so duly?" Rory said as she plopped down in the stool next to her mother's immediately reaching for her coffee.

"Nothing," her mother answered dismissively and turned all the way to face her. "How was school?"

A dreamy smile came over Rory's face. "It was perfect. Tristan got into a fight."

Lorelai's mouth opened in shock for the second time in five minutes. "Uh, yeah, that's just heaven."

The sarcastic comment seemed to fall on deaf ears as Rory continued to grin and then grabbed her mother's hands and announced excitedly, "And then he told me he loved me!"

"Oh. Wow that is good news." Lorelai drained the coffee in front of her before she continued. "How'd all this happen?"

Rory looked down at the floor and blushed furiously. "Well, I actually told him I loved him last Friday night at our anniversary dinner."

Fighting back the disappointment that Rory waited an entire weekend to tell her, Lorelai smiled cheerily. She supposed it wasn't easy for Rory to talk about Tristan to her because of her lack of trust in the relationship. "Well that's quite the role reversal."

"Yeah, well, I was kind of out of it," her daughter murmured under her breath, thinking she couldn't be heard. Then louder, said, "But I meant it. And so did he."

"I know," Lorelai said, putting a hand on her daughter's. "It's great, honey."

"He called you, didn't he, that night?" Rory said after a bit, chewing her bottom lip. "Were you upset?"

"No," she answered quickly and when she saw Rory's dubious look, she conceded. "A little upset. Only because you don't get 'tipsy' as Tristan put it. You're not that girl and I never thought you'd be that girl. It isn't easy to swallow."

"I was just nervous," her daughter admitted. "It was supposed to be a big night."

Lorelai felt hope bloom inside her. "Supposed to be?"

"Nothing happened, Mom."

She tried to keep a straight face, tried to understand how frustrated Rory sounded. "It's okay. When it's right, it'll happen."

Her daughter looked surprised. "Yeah?"

"Of course," Lorelai said as she pulled Rory into a hug, hoping that it wouldn't happen any time soon. "It will happen and it will be right for you."

Rory sighed and held her mother closer. "Thanks Mom."

~*~

The rain-slash-hail came down hard on the windshield of Rory's car, making it difficult for her to see ahead. Muttering promises to God she didn't know she could keep that He somehow get her safely to Tristan's doorstep, she maneuvered the car through the DuGrey's neighborhood and headed for the familiar wrought-iron gate.

It had been a month since their anniversary and Tristan's imprisonment, as he called it, was almost up. Even though their applications were in and the relatively stress-free final semester of their high school careers was upon them, Rory insisted on studying for the tests that their teachers insisted to give them week after week. Tristan agreed to the "study session" only because he knew it was easy to distract her into something more enjoyable.

_So much for his "sex off the table" idea_, Rory snickered as she drove up the gravel driveway. Their little hitch had only made things hotter between them and she found it even more difficult to restrain. She did everything in her power to make sure he knew she was planning on sex with him soon. _Sooner than he thinks_.

_But it has been a month, _a nasty voice countered in her head. _And you're still the Virgin Tease you always were. _Rory didn't know what brought on the sudden self-dislike but she was pretty sure it was sexual frustration. Lately, Tristan did everything but when it came to fooling around and she was ready burst.

Shaking her head, she parked her car next to Tristan's BMW and braced herself for the cold. Gathering her stuff from the passenger seat, she opened the door and sucked in a breath as cold slammed against her. "Holy mother!" she cursed uncharacteristically – another side effect of not getting any, she supposed.

"Gilmore!" Tristan voice called out and she looked up to see him yelling at her from his bedroom. "What the hell are you doing?"

"We had a study date," she called back, struggling to close the door against the wind howling around her.

"Sane people wait until the storm's over!" he reprimanded.

"Well we both know that's a moot point," she yelled back, laughing. "The things I do for you, DuGrey!" The rain seeped through the collar of her coat making her shudder violently and the wind whipped around her face. The papers in her hand flapped viciously between her fingers before slipping through them and falling to the ground. "Damn it!"

"Jesus Mary, get out of the rain. It's freezing out there!"

She ran after the scattered papers, bunching them together in a soggy mess in her hands before running for the large oak door at the entrance of the DuGrey mansion. Her hair clung wetly to her cheeks and she shuddered again as she reached up to ring the doorbell. Tristan opened the door and pulled her inside, muttering as he did so. "Seriously, who wears such a light jacket in the middle of December? Such an idiot, Mary."

She winced as he tugged her coat off and then glared at him. "Hey!" Her voice went unheard and he continued to take off her wet clothes and insult her. She swatted his hand away and yelled, "Hey! Stop it! I'm capable of taking off my own clothes!"

"Apparently, you're not capable of checking the weather forecast!" he retorted, then grabbed her hands and pulled her to the stairs. "I have dry clothes upstairs."

"This caveman act is not setting my heart aflutter if that's what you think you're doing, buster." Rory knew why they were bickering; it was just another side effect of sexual frustration.

"Let's just get you dry before you catch pneumonia and your mother can find another reason to hate me."

"Don't bring my mother into this." They reached Tristan's room and he handed her the towel that lay on his bed. She smiled inwardly; he was being very thoughtful – he'd left the towel out for her before he came downstairs to get her. Her annoyance vanished and she smiled at him. "Thanks."

He stepped back. "I'll get my sweats."

When he left the room, Rory stripped out of her wet clothes and started to dry her hair with the towel. Tristan entered just as she was wrapping the towel around her, over her bra and panties. He smirked as he approached her, sweats in hand. "You'd think this was all part of my evil plan."

She rolled her eyes. "Getting me into your room and undressed? Quite a regular occurrence, Tristan. Not much of an accomplishment."

He reached for the towel and pulled it away from her. "Yeah but I still love looking."

This time she did blush, her skin tingling, warming, as he hungrily perused her body. "You're grounded. Such rewards should not be allowed."

"Two words: conjugal visits."

She laughed and twined her arms around him as his hands came to rest on her waist, his fingers softly kneading her back. "I came here to study."

"Who are you kidding?" he said with a low chuckle.

"I'm serious."

"So am I."

He leaned in and kissed her, softly, their lips brushing against one another. She pulled away and was about to make another smart-alecky comment when he swooped in again and silenced her. The kiss was still soft but now a little urgent, which sent a shiver of excitement up her spine, spread warmth across her belly.

When he kissed her like this, soft but desperate, she knew he was slowly losing control.

Her hands splayed across his shoulder blades, blunt nails tracing the bone over the cotton of his T-shirt, and then scraping up against his nape to tangle in his hair as his hands grabbed her bottom, pulled her flush against him; against his throbbing, already rock-hard erection.

The warmth in her belly became full blown raw need as she felt him against her center, even through the material of his pants. _Every time_, she thought headily. Every time she felt him there, her stomach did summersaults and her mind went pleasantly blank. Need and power, heat and excitement coursed through her and all she wanted was to feel every part of him, everywhere.

Because she was about to lose control herself, she tore her lips away, pressed her forehead to his, panting heavily as hands, both his and hers, explored flesh. "Someone has been thinking about me."

"You, the busty blonde on the cover of my porn magazine," he said noncommittally as he tongue traced her earlobe. "What's the difference?"

"The difference," she said silkily, while reaching down and under the waistband of his sweats to pinch his butt, "is the difference between a quick jerk in the shower and getting to deflower me."

He laughed against her shoulder, kissed it lightly. "So you keep saying, Gilmore."

Rory grabbed a handful of his hair, pulled his head back so he was looking right at her. Expression serious, sincere, she kept her eyes open as she brushed her lips against his, whispered, "So I keep wanting, Tristan."

Understanding dawned in his eyes and she knew he was going to back away. Swiftly, she banded her arms around him, brought her mouth to his in a feverish kiss before he could bring that wall up between them, before he could push away. "Rory," he panted helplessly, in between her insistent kisses. "We should slow down, Rory."

Frustrated, she shook her head, reached behind her to unclasp her bra and let it fall between them. "Don't want to," she said biting his lower lip, "want to have sex," her tongue glided across his, "with you," she brought his hand up to cup her right breast, "_now_."

"Fuck Gilmore," he said as his hand squeezed her breast, rolled her hardened nipple between his fingers. "I won't be able to stop if you keep this up."

_God he's so daft sometimes_, she thought with a sigh. To him, she said, "Don't want you to. Tristan, I want you."

The sharpness of her tone must have registered with him because he studied her face, brows furrowed in concentration as if he was trying to asses how honest she was being. She rolled her eyes and thought, _He chases me forever and then when I'm willing and eager he gets scared. So typical. _"You're sure?"

She took a deep breath so not to scream before she said, "I'm sure that I'm so wet for you right now I can barely think straight."

His eyes darkened and he swallowed hard. "_Rory_."

She took the hand that wasn't on her breast and kissed the center of his palm. "And I know that I'm completely in love with you and that I want this to happen."

He laughed and pushed a strand of hair away from her face. "Well, if you insist."

After another searing kiss, he bent down and lifted her into his arms, carrying her to his bed and gently laying her down on it. She sighed indulgently, ran her fingers through his hair as he kissed a path down her stomach, feather-light kisses interspersed with tiny flicks of his tongue. His lips brushed over the cotton of her panties, teasingly, before he straightened to remove his T-shirt.

Despite her bravado, Rory felt nervous as her eyes roamed her boyfriend's naked chest. She figured it was a good thing; she was taking a big step. But looking at Tristan, who had lifted one leg to his shoulder and was currently kissing a path down the inside of her calf, she knew she was in safe hands.

Then, he did something to remove all doubt from her mind. She saw him reach for something on the bedside table and her eyes widened in surprise when she saw it was the remote for his stereo system. As light, sensual music filled the room he smiled at her and shrugged.

Smiling back at him, she thought, _God, I love him_. Rory could hardly believe it sometimes, but she did and making love to him seemed like the most natural thing in the world.

He was wrong before when he said he put too much pressure on her for sex – she wanted to be with him all along, from the moment he kissed her in her kitchen almost four months ago just to shut her up. This much was clear to her now; sleeping with Tristan was inevitable.

Tristan's talented lips reached her knee, Rory giggled as his nose brushed against the sensitive skin. He smiled against her leg, before taking it and wrapping it around his waist. Bending down, he covered her body with his; trailing kisses down the side of her neck, nibbling on her collarbone. In turn, she ran her hands up and down his back, tracing the muscles there. His hands came up to massage her breasts, cupping them from below, fingers gently teasing her hardened nipples. Rory moaned and arched into him, firmly wrapping her free leg around him, locking him to her.

"I'm starting to think these study session are very useful," Tristan murmured, lips brushing over her breast. Rory gasped as his mouth closed over a nipple and he let out a chuckle. "Very useful. I'm learning so much."

"Yeah?" she asked breathlessly, "Like what?"

"Biology for one," he answered then rolled his tongue around the puckered bud. "Chemistry." His hand ran down her length before coming between them to rest on the cotton of her panties. He lifted his head, met her unfocused gaze and then unceremoniously, moved the restricting material and delved two fingers into her wet heat. "The female anatomy."

Rory didn't hear him; she was too busy being numbed by mindless pleasure as his fingers worked inside her. His thumb brushed against her clit, his mouth returned to her breast and she arched into him, fingers twisting in his hair. Tristan kept a steady rhythm against Rory's most sensitive part in the way that drove her crazy, bringing her so close to the edge that she was panting and moaning in anticipation of release.

But he never let her go over the brink.

"Not without me, Gilmore," he whispered in her ear, tracing the lobe with his tongue. "I want you to come when I'm inside you."

She nearly whimpered, her hips bucking against his seeking fingers, "God, Tristan…please."

"Tell me," he urged silkily. "What do you want?"

"I want," she panted and then gasped when his knuckle brushed, ever so lightly, across her clit, "you."

"You have me," he answered nibbling on her neck as his fingers continued. His erection throbbed through his sweatpants between her thighs, making her shudder. "What do want me to do? Say the words, Rory."

He was torturing her, purposefully making her say things he knew she wanted and felt when she had almost begged him to have sex. _Well two can play that game_, she thought wickedly, _he's taught me that much_. Although she was delaying her own pleasure, she knew it would be worth it to get him panting just like her.

With some effort, she grabbed his shoulders and made a whimpering noise to lull him into thinking she was close to the edge again. It worked because he chuckled again, and slid his fingers out of her. Taking the opportunity, Rory pushed and catching him off-guard, rolled them around so that she was on top, legs straddled on either side of him.

Her hair fell like a curtain around her face as she looked down at his surprised face and smirked, "You first, DuGrey."

"Well played, Gilmore."

She reached up to pull her hair up, arching her body back, watching as his eyes followed her movements, gazed hungrily at her breasts. "I'm not playing, Tristan."

He smiled, grabbing her hips and flipping them around again. He bent over her kissed her deeply and pulled away. "I love you, Rory. Is that what you want me to say?"

She twined her arms around his neck. "Only if you want to."

"I want to make love to you."

"Then by all means…"

He kissed her again, one of those hungry, impatient kisses, all teeth and tongue and his hands worked expertly over her body, her breasts, her stomach, her thighs, arousing her.

She strained against him, bucking against his seeking fingers, crying out when they returned to torture her between her wet folds. "Oh…God…_Tristan_."

"Will you come for me, Rory?" he whispered as he pinched her clit. Head thrown back, fingers clutching his sheets, she rode out the first peak, shuddering, as he watched her, whispering encouraging words.

Rory waited until the tremors subsided and her breathing returned to normal before speaking, "I thought you were gonna…we were, you know, together?"

"We are," he said lazily, as he kissed the side of her neck and his hands wandered down to grab her hips.

"When?" she asked, her hands playing with the hair at his nape.

"Just as soon as you get me out of my pants, Gilmore."

She laughed and reached down, tugging his pants past his ass and grabbing a delicious handful. She kissed his cheek, whispered, "My favorite part."

He half groaned and half laughed as they struggled to get him out his remaining clothes. Once divested of his sweatpants, they huddled together under the covers, exploring each other's bodies with strokes and caresses meant to arouse. His lips brushed over her face, stopping only to nip at her own.

"Part of me can't really believe this is happening," Tristan admitted huskily in her ear as his hands found her breasts again. "Even after everything that's happened."

Rory half-moaned, half-giggled. "I'd say especially after everything that's happened. Or hasn't as the case may be. I know I've made these past few weeks difficult for you."

"Try months," Tristan countered with a chuckled as he kissed the valley between her breasts. "You're worth it."

Rory smiled, ran her hands through his hair and tugged so that he brought his face up to hers for a kiss. In between kisses, she asked, "So are you going to make me wait now too?"

"Don't tempt me." His hand crept to her belly, to the soft curls between her legs as he settled between her legs. His erection pushed against her entrance and he felt her tense, instinctively, he knew, and so he kissed her again. His fingers slipped between her folds, wet and hot, she moaned and arched against him, ready for him. It was a wonder he could keep his wits about him being so close to her core, listening to her breathe in that heady, husky, ragged way of hers.

But he did remember and reached over to his bedside table for the condoms he kept in the top drawer. She watched him, eyes wide as he struggled with the wrapper and then took it from him, tearing it open and pulling the rubber out. She reached for him and smiled lightly, "Let me."

Before she could place the rubber on the tip of his penis, he grabbed her hand let out a strangled chuckle. "Next time, Gilmore. I won't be able to handle this right now."

She blushed sheepishly and relinquished the condom. Once he rolled the condom on and settled between her legs again, she brought her mouth to his and kissed him deeply. His hand returned the place between her legs, intimately exploring her. With his mouth next to her ear, as he prepared her for him, he whispered, "Are you ready for me, Rory?"

When her only response was a breathy groan, he grabbed her hip with one hand thrust inside her.

He gasped and grabbed onto his shoulder as pain ripped through her. "_God_."

He stayed inside for her a second, letting her adjust to him, even as his entire body screamed for release. She was so wet, so tight, so perfect around him. "Stay with me, baby. Just relax. Rory."

She swallowed, closed her eyes against the discomfort, fighting the urge to push him away. Her voice came out shaky. "Tristan."

"I know, baby," he said, kissing the side of her neck. "I'm going to make it better." He started to move inside her, setting the pace slowly, his hands on her hips as he urged her to move with him.

Rory felt like she was burning. When Tristan started to move inside her, she prepared herself for the pain. But though his actions did cause her some discomfort, the sensation of being ripped apart didn't return. Instead, she found herself moving her hips instinctively in time with his thrusts.

Her eyes flew open and she found her staring into her boyfriend's eyes, darkened with lust as he watched her. She managed a half-smile and brought her hand to his cheek in a sign to let him know she was okay. He turned his face into her hand, kissed the middle of her palm before reaching up and taking both her hands captive in his own.

When Rory closed her eyes again, it wasn't out of discomfort. Gasping, she felt her body lift off the bed as Tristan continued to thrust, felt her orgasm building again as Tristan's lips closed over her nipple.

"_Tristan_," she moaned, pushing her head back into her pillow as sensations washed over her.

"_Rory, Rory, Rory_," he chanted, almost sounding delirious, moving faster, his thrust becoming shallower along with his breathing. Rory felt she was almost there, one more thrust and she'd peaked but Tristan stilled above her suddenly and let out a groan.

After a minute or so, he collapsed on top of her, letting go of her wrists and instinctively, she brought her hands to the small of his back, rubbing circles as his muscles quivered under her fingertips. "Hey," she whispered, her fingers curling around the base of his spine.

"Hey," he returned softly. "I'm sorry you didn't get to…"

"I did before," she reminded him as he breathed heavily against her neck. "Was it you…I mean, for you, was it…good?"

He laughed and lifted his face just barely so their eyes met. "Yeah, it was."

She beamed at him even as her limbs suddenly started to feel heavy. "So that was sex, huh?"

"Pretty much. It gets better."

"Really?" she asked, unable to keep the glee out of her voice. "Soon?"

"Insatiable wench," Tristan murmured as he rolled them, still inside her, onto his side. "Gimme about a few minutes then we'll see."

Delighted, she spooned against him and sighed, "I'm going to take a nap then."

"Okay," he answered, sounding sleepy as well. Sleepy, satisfied and sated. "Hey Ror?"

"Hmm?"

"Can I still call you Mary?"

She laughed and curled her hand in his. "Yes, please do."

_To Be Continued…_

**Author's Note: **Originally, this was supposed to be the last chapter but then I changed my mind. An epilogue is next. Thanks to everyone for their patience, I realized it took me a very long time to get this up. Let's hope it doesn't happen again.


	51. Epilogue: Future Tense

**Epilogue: Future Tense**

"Yes Father," Tristan droned into his cell phone as he leaned up against Paris's locker. He absentmindedly took Rorys hand into his own and kissed it as he continued to roll his eyes at his father. Rory smiled at him puzzled and continued to empty her books into her own locker. "Okay, Ill open them when I get home...okay...yes, Father. _Okay_!"

He flipped his phone shut and let out an exasperate sigh as Rory shut her locker. "Trouble?"

He reached for her hips and drew her near. "It's always trouble when Fathers concerned."

The hallways were almost deserted so Rory had no problem leaning into him, her hands splayed across his chest. "What's up?"

"An envelope arrived in the mail today," he relayed to her as his lips nibbled under her jaw.

Distracted, Rory sighed, "Yeah?"

"From Yale," he continued, suckling on her goose bump-ridden flesh.

Realization sunk in as she pushed away from him, slapping her hands against his chest. "Tristan! Your _acceptance_ letter from Yale!"

He smiled a bit; ridiculously happy that she had no doubt that he would be accepted. "Yeah so?"

She let out an exasperated sigh and finished dumping books into her bag. She shook her head, smiling as she did so. "If I didn't know better, Tristan DuGrey, I'd say you didn't care about your future."

"Au contraire, Mary," Tristan said as he pushed himself off the locker and slammed hers shut. She leaned back against the metal and looked up at him, his hands on her hips now, both their book bags abandoned on the floor beside them. "I do care about my future. Especially the part where it involves you."

It was corny, she knew, and typically not them, but she grinned anyway as her heart fluttered in her chest. "Is that so?"

He nodded and leaned in for a heart-stopping kiss. When they pulled away, he furrowed his brow. "You know, there might be an envelope waiting for you at home too."

Rory hadn't considered that and her heart skipped _two_ entire beats when it sunk in. "Mom would have...messaged me, called me."

"Your phone's on silent...Paris threatened to confiscate it during the meeting, remember?"

Rory practically pushed Tristan away and dropped to her knees to fetch the phone out of the front pocket of her bag, while hyperventilating, "Oh my God, oh my God!"

Tristan hunched down beside her and watched on amused as she fiddled with her phone. "So?"

Sighing, in relief or disappointment, he wasn't sure, she replied, "Nothing."

"Maybe she's not home yet," he suggested.

She bit her bottom lip. "Maybe."

He laughed and pulled her up as he stood. "You want me to drive at breakneck speed to Stars Hollow so you can go and check your mail, right?"

Hoisting her bag, she started jogging down the hallway, calling over her shoulder. "I knew there was something you were useful for, c'mon DuGrey, times a'wasting!"

Chuckling her followed her and called back. "I'll show you what else I'm good for, Gilmore. You just wait!"

-&-

"Tristan?"

"Yeah?"

"I got into Harvard."

There was still wonder in her voice as she said it out loud, hours later, as they lay entangled, naked in her bed. He smiled against her forehead and continued to run his hand up and down her bare back. "I know, baby."

She shifted, her soft breasts pressing against his chest as she looked up at him. "I got into Harvard and you got into Yale."

Knowing where she was going with this, he shook his head. "We don't know that."

"I know it," she replied and kissed the underside of his jaw.

"I've applied to Harvard and you've applied to Yale," he said as she continued to nibble on his jaw. "Nothing's set in stone."

She sighed against him. "Yeah but..."

He grabbed her shoulders and flipped them over, settling between her legs. "No buts, unless it has to do with either one of our posteriors, okay? Right now I want to celebrate with my girlfriend."

She grinned and tugged at his hair. "We've celebrated already. Twice."

"Yeah and you're mom's gonna be home in a bit and I'd like to have at least one more hurrah, so shut up and let me fu-"

She cut him off by clamping his mouth shut as familiar strands of a favorite song floated through the air. "Wait, wait, I like this part."

_Whatever tomorrow brings_

_Ill be there_

_With open arms_

_And open eyes_

Tristan kissed her then, long and languorous. "Are you done?"

She rolled her eyes and let him continue to seduce her. "I just like those words...they're so..."

"Honest," he finished for her as he hand closed over her breast. When she looked at him surprised, he grinned. "I like them too."

"It could be our song, you know. Better than 98 degrees."

"Mm hmm," he murmured and kissed a trail between her breasts. "Whatever you say."

She settled against the pillows and gestured between them. "Okay then, proceed."

"Thank you."

Rory closed her eyes and sighed as sensations swarmed her body under her boyfriends talented mouth, hands and fingers. Their past was rocky, their future was uncertain but right now Tristan was kissing her all over and making her feel more alive than she ever had before.

Life was...just as she wanted it to be.

**THE END**

**Authors Note: Well, folks, there we go. The first Gilmore Girls fic I ever wrote finished. Wow, never thought it would be so long and take so long. But almost 6 years later and its done. Finally. Thank you everyone who followed this, asked about it, reviewed it, bugged me to update and basically made this fic into what it was...it was worth it, I hope.**


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